A Prat for all Seasons
by thinkswithpen
Summary: "The next thing that happens Granger is that I ask you out." "What? " "And then you say yes" "Oh I do, do I?" "Of course you do, after all you have a reputation for being exceedingly bright." Rating is for language
1. At the Bar

There was, as usual, a crush at the bar. It was about six people deep. This was the New Ministry's response to post-war austerity: still have all the ridiculous formal balls but employ far fewer bar staff in an attempt to reduce the drinks bill. This policy had worked for the first few events. That was all it took for people to realise how deathly dull these things were when everyone was sober, ergo the scrum at the bar. Draco Malfoy had no intention of going through this whole shindig without raising his blood alcohol level so he was waiting to catch a barwizard's eye, getting his immaculate robes wrinkled and rubbing elbows with what his father would have called "the common wizard", a category that seemed to contain everyone who wasn't a Malfoy when Lucius was pressed for a definition. A large man who had been successful in his quest to be served pushed his way through, holding his drinks aloft and displacing people roughly. The disordered mass regrouped in such a way that Draco found himself caught between a need for alcohol and a dire need to be elsewhere. He was now wedged beside Potter and his wife with no escape. Yes now he definitely needed a drink.

There was an unspoken truce between himself, Potter and Weasley. It meant they nodded politely in lifts or at social functions such as this but it wasn't really designed to withstand what looked like at least a ten minute wait for bar service. Before Draco could even assemble some opinions on recent Quidditch matches that might annoy The Chosen One he realised they weren't going to be needed as Potter and the Mini-Weasel were in the middle of what his mother had always referred to as "a marital episode".

"You have to calm down Harry."

"He just spent ten minutes explaining his pivotal role in the defeat of Voldemort to me. Me! I've never even heard of him before!"

"Yes and you did well not to punch him but I'd really rather you didn't have a heart attack in your twenties please."

"Where does she find these complete...idiots?"

"I don't know but I do know that you and Ron will have to find some bloody inner peace about it. She is a grown woman and if she only wants to get involved with utter wankers there is nothing either of you can do."

"I dunno; Ron and George are working on a wanker alarm that will scream a warning whenever a wanker asks her out."

Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"What? She doesn't seem to have an internal one?"

"You know you don't want to find out where Hermione would shove that alarm if you ever gave it to her."

"So you think we should just put up with this parade of arseholes? I'd rather she got back together with Ron!"

"Don't you dare Harry Potter! They broke up because you had such a problem with their relationship."

Now Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Ok they also never stopped arguing outside the bedroom but you can't deny you were a factor."

"Are you blaming me for the fact that since Ron there's only been men who make McLaggen look like a reasonable choice?"

At this gem of a piece of information, Draco couldn't hold in a snort. McLaggen, the most ridiculous celebrizard (a term he coined) in London was Granger's ex. This was office torture gold! Unfortunately his snort had alerted the previously oblivious arguing couple to his presence.

Harry was puce with annoyance at being caught bickering by a former nemesis so he went on the offensive. "Malfoy, enjoying yourself are you? Anything to add?"

"Oh yes please do" muttered Ginny "another opinion is just what this conversation needs."

And as if summoned Ron appeared at her elbow having pushed through to them clearly looking to get something off his chest. The way he'd pushed left them in a sort of squashed circle facing each other so Draco was now in this bizarre conversation whether he liked it or not.

"Who is that git? Oh I know his name" Ron continued before anyone could answer "Malcolm 'Call-me-Mal' Hardy gave me a sodding business card and everything. Just after he told me he let Fred and George use his ideas for most of their pranks and that running your own business must be relaxing because you are, and I quote: "in total control of something small scale" We've been international for over a year! I'll give him small scale! Who the bloody hell is this git and what is Hermione doing with him?"

"He's from the Department of Information Management, he was in Charlie and Tonk's year in Hogwarts. His hobbies include some muggle sport called Rug-something and Hermione is currently dancing with him pretty badly" Ginny responded in a sing-song tone that suggested she'd made this speech more than once this evening. "He is Hermione's date. She is not marrying him. He may be a prat-on-wheels but he is also very good-looking. You two need to learn to nod and smile like Hermione and I did with your airhead dates and wait till she finds a good one."

There was much spluttering from Ron and Harry. Draco laughed out loud to himself. He hadn't understood till that moment that maybe there was a bigger reason Riddle had tried to eliminate Ginny Weasley in her first year. Clearly she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Airheads?" exclaimed Harry, outraged.

"Nod and Smile!" said Ron in the same tone at the same time. "I don't think Lavender remembers a warm welcome from the two of you. And I don't think Verity will take kindly to being called an airhead thank you very much!"

"Who are these alleged airheads I dated? Cho was a Ravenclaw!"

Taking the chance to make Potter's life just a little bit worse if the look on Mini-Weasley's face was anything to go by Draco gave a low whistle. "Cho Chang - well done Potter she is very lovely. Swooped in there just after Diggory carked it. Very Slytherin of you, we were almost proud."

The seething silence that greeted this observation meant his work here was done. Everyone was annoyed.

"What are you doing in this conversation Ferret?"

"You seem to be in need of my romantic insight Weasel. I always look to help those less observationally blessed than myself."

"Are you saying you know Hermione better than we do?" Harry scoffed.

"There's no need to say it. It's just true. With the possible exception of Mini-Weasel of course." replied Draco with a small bow to Ginny.

"We're her best friends" explained Ron slowly, as if he were talking to a child.

"Yes but you're not really equipped to understand this" said Draco in his best patronising tone.

"No-one is equipped to understand why she only ever goes out with twits of the first order" Harry stated authoritatively.

"Oh Potter you are so very, very married."

"What's that got to do with anything?" said Harry defensively.

"It has everything to do with it. Not only are you as sickeningly loved up as it is possible to be, none of you have done any casual dating since school, which is why you can't understand Granger's dating life."

"Enlighten them Malfoy" said Ginny with a wicked grin.

"With pleasure Mini-Weasel" said Draco holding up a hand and counting off fingers as he pointed out his reasons "she's attractive, intelligent and a bloody war hero who earns about twice as much as most men her age."

If Draco thought this would settle things the looks of bafflement on Ron and Harry's faces cured him of such thoughts. With a sigh he took it upon himself to explain what was obvious to all single witches and wizards.

"Anyone she meets through work is off limits. She's ridiculously dedicated so meeting anyone outside of work is next to impossible. She doesn't want to limit herself even more so she says yes to anyone who asks her out. The problem is ordinary men think someone as impressive as her would hex the balls off them for asking, or worse laugh. Only the totally self important prats have the bollocks to ask her out at all. Granger doesn't have a thing for prats, prats have a thing for Granger."

"Well said Malfoy!" Ginny cheered

And with that he ordered four large firewhiskeys from the bar and squeezed away from the dazed Potter and Weasley.

Harry spluttered that Malfoy wouldn't know a romance if it bit him on the arse, that loads of blokes would ask Hermione out and eventually muttered his complaints into silence while Ginny rubbed his arm and ordered their now-even-more-needed drinks. Through all of this Ron had remained uncharacteristically silent. He took the first sip of his drink and looked up with a classic Weasley grin.

"Harry, self-important prats have a thing for Hermione. Who's the biggest, most self-important prat we know?"

As realisation dawned Ron and Ginny exchanged a look. Oh this was going to be fun.

On the other side of the ballroom, as he reached the bottom of his second firewhiskey (they were all for him), Draco watched Granger get man-handled around the dancefloor by tonight's prize-tulip of a date. He knew everything he'd said to Potter and the Weasel tonight was true so why was he so uncomfortable? And when exactly did he develop opinions about Granger's love-life?

A/N This is my first dramione. I love Ron but this story calls for Draco's special talents :) I also love Harry, I know he's being a prat himslef in this chapter but he's just more annoyed than a very annoyed thing. He'll behave better in future I promise.


	2. At the Office

On Monday morning when Hermione entered her office her first act of the day was to issue a most undignified scream and drop the files she was carrying in fright. There was a life-size cardboard cut-out of Cormac McLaggen standing in the middle of the tiny room winking at her and occasionally running a hand through his designer messy hair. It turned out that McLaggen leering at her was still just as disturbing, whether he was two-dimensional or not. As she collected her files from the floor she presumed that some sensible witch was looking for sexual harassment legislation against his merchandise. It wasn't until she reached for a quill some minutes later and noticed that her entire desk set had been replaced with McLaggen themed items that she suspected something else was afoot. Malfoy. His personnel review at the end of his first year at The New Ministry had infamously noted that he lacked a sense of fun, he had used it ever since as an excuse for bad behaviour. The month with the invisible whoopee cushions was the worst.

The truth was neither of them had had much of a sense of fun about their first year in Magical Law. Hermione liked to call it "Our Vietnam" but mainly because of the baffled look Malfoy got when she said it. The New Ministry had decided that Junior Officers were no longer a paid position just four weeks before they started. This, and the general lack of loans available in the wizarding world, had meant that the normal intake of ten juniors was reduced to just the two of them, most people couldn't take an unpaid job. Hermione had used her Order of Merlin money and Draco had lived off the pittance he got when the Ministry compulsory purchased the Manor out from under him. They were broke and doing the work of ten people for a year. They had been forced to find a way to work together or sink into oblivion.

It had turned out that they made an excellent good cop/bad cop team. Nearly everyone they dealt with obviously favoured one of them and despised the other. They were training to be solicitors and one of them was a Slytherin so it didn't take them long to exploit this weakness. They finished out the year with more strategic alliances than a pureblood debutante season. No matter how well they did it was still far more than any two people should have been asked to do so they pulled on all possible strings to reverse the decision on salaries for junior officers, got promoted and wrote themselves much more favourable contracts. Ironically they did this by threatening to sue under the very new House Elf legislation they'd spent the year arguing about.

When they finally got some junior colleagues, they found that the year on their own had made them incapable of playing well with others. Malfoy had no patience with "the oiks", as he called them, and even Hermione found it difficult to listen to their complaints about job stress. The Outburst happened the day she had overheard them complaining about Malfoy's attitude. She had lost it completely, shouting that without him they wouldn't have jobs or pay at all. The phrases "ungrateful lot of doxies" and "you can go soak your heads when you get them out of your arses" may have been used. The Outburst also turned out to be The Final Straw. There was now a functioning Cold War in place in the department. Hermione had worried about it for months until Malfoy pragmatically pointed out that trying to compete with them meant the Juniors got something close to acceptable work done. Every once in a while she held out some sort of olive branch to them, in the hopes that things would get better but it never achieved much.

All of this isolation meant Malfoy's required "sense of fun" could only be expressed towards her. Whatever was going on with the McLaggen memorabilia was confined to their office. He might want to tease her but there was no way he'd cause her embarrassment in front of the rest of the department. He'd rather poke himself in the eye with his wand than have either of them lose face there. Oh he was merciless with her in front of clients, friends, collaborators from other departments but never colleagues. It amused her to think that there was a place where Draco Malfoy would always pick her side and wouldn't hear a word said against her considering how much he enjoyed slagging her off everywhere else.

"I like the way you nibble that quill sweetheart" said a voice.

Hermione jumped out of her skin with her second yelp of the morning.

"Mmmm jumpy is good too" said the cut-out.

She really was actually going to kill Malfoy this time. That or hex his hairline to rise every time he looked in the mirror. What was he playing at anyway? He had a meeting with a client first thing so she would just have to wait. She turned the cut-out to face Draco's desk, despite its protests, and ploughed on with the paperwork.

When Malfoy returned, about an hour before lunch, she had worked out that silencio didn't work on inanimate objects and that earplugs for her were a better defence. They worked best if she hummed to herself too, that way everything else was drowned out. This is why she shrieked and jerked in fright for the third time that day when Draco tapped her on the shoulder. His mouth was moving but she could hear nothing. When she unplugged herself she heard Cut-out Cormac loudly asking who "this ponce" was and proclaiming that he "didn't swing that way"

"How has your morning been?" asked Malfoy as if nothing out of the ordinary were occurring "productive?"

"Oh just peachy thank you. I so enjoy being propositioned by cardboard" she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I thought you'd be more comfortable this way, you've been denying it for too long Granger, it's not healthy."

"And just what am I denying, other than the idea that you are a normal human being?"

"Your true nature Granger, lashing out at others is just a sign that all this pretending is causing you stress" he said patting her hand as she gripped the desk in an effort not to hex the smug idiot.

"I don't know, Malfoy, covering the office in McLaggen memorabilia speaks quite loudly to me of a true nature that you are repressing . I'm sorry, he claims he "doesn't do dudes" she said looking at him with fake doe-eyed concern.

"He did do Granger though didn't he? It must be difficult for you since the Weasel. I never put it together before but Krum, Potter, McLaggen and Weasel. Skeeter was right about you: you are a groupie. There's nothing wrong with it Granger. You like the bright lights, admitting it is half the battle as my wizengamot mandated counsellor liked to say."

"Groupie!"

"Admittedly I always thought you were a harpy but I was a few letters out."

Hermione could feel the rage bubbling up inside her and she did what all her training and experience taught her to do in such situations: she switched to advocate mode.

"And do you have any evidence for this supposition that isn't over five years old and wildly inaccurate?"

Draco responded in kind "Are you denying that you dated idiot celebrizard McLaggen?"

"I have most certainly tapped that sweetness" commented the cut-out unprompted.

"Shut up!" both the humans in the room shouted simultaneously. The offended cut-out crossed its arms and sulked.

"Do you really want to open this can of worms Malfoy? It's not like your personal life will withstand much scrutiny. At least I make my own choices and don't just get involved with people pre-approved by my mother."

"Why on earth would anyone need a can of worms? What ridiculous Muggle thing would you do with them? And my romantic past is irreproachable and certainly not filled with egomaniacal grandstanders who can't shut up about themselves even in cardboard form, thank you very much."

"Well it would be difficult if there were two egomaniacal grandstanders in the relationship alright. Why the sudden interest in my love life Malfoy? Are you entering the meddling Machiavellian stage of your inevitable confirmed bachelorhood early?"

"The revolving door of one date wonders is distracting me from my plans for world domination. I analysed what I knew and came up with a common factor. Your latest conquests aren't famous enough to hold your interest. I'm merely gently reminding you where your, ahem, heart really lies."

"As if spending every work hour with an ex-Death Eater wasn't limelight enough for little old me." said Hermione with a cloyingly sweet smile.

"Ah yes but I'm not famous, I'm notorious and you can't replace sex with work." Malfoy muttered something after this that sounded suspiciously like "much as I might try."

"Well I'm preventing your plots for world domination so there is a purpose in life after all. Get rid of the cardboard creep, Malfoy, before I get rid of your hair...permanently."

"No. There is a lesson in this experience for you, Granger, and until you learn it, famous boy stays." With that Draco stuck McLaggen's likeness to the floor in front of her desk with a silent charm so that she didn't know what he'd used. She decided not to dignify the situation with further comment and a frosty atmosphere settled in the small room that tried to accommodate both of them. Cut-out Cormac was still sulking so merciful silence reigned for the rest of the morning.

Despite the open hostilities Draco and Hermione, without even noticing it, continued to work together seamlessly. They were incapable of real discord as collaborating was no longer even conscious. She made a little displeased noise and he pulled open the top drawer of the filling cabinet beside his desk without looking so that she could walk over to it with her nose in a file and it was waiting open for her to rummage within. He said "curses" when he broke a quill and she sent him one from her desk magically without saying anything. He responded with a low pitched "hmm" and she with a "hum-hmmm" that meant thanks and you're welcome respectively. They moved smoothly around one another without really looking. He stopped swinging back on his chair when she needed to get at the parchment recycling bin behind him and she automatically held the ladder steady as he searched for something at the top of their stack of precedent scrolls.

It was difficult to see how Ron was supposed to know they were deeply at odds when he stopped by to ask Hermione to join him for lunch. He sauntered over to her and sat on the corner of her desk to chat.

"So Hermione join your oldest friend for lunch? Come on, you know you want to, I'll even let you tell me off about my table manners."

"Harry is my oldest friend and no I can't" said Hermione barely looking up "I'm meeting Mal." There was a chorus of tutting, tsking and Cut-out Cormac went so far as to raspberry as all three males in the office voiced their disapproval of this plan

"I don't remember asking anyone's opinion" Hermione snarled

"How did this tosser get back in your personal space?" Ron asked gesticulating at McLaggen with his thumb.

"Ask the other tosser. Apparently I'm supposed to learn some sort of life lesson and Malfoy is just the one to dole them out."

"O-oh Hermione swore" said Ron in sing-song voice "you're in trou-ble."

"Thanks for the commentary Weasel. How do we survive without your rapier wit normally?" Draco did look up. If Hermione was giving him the silent treatment, he needed his banter fix somewhere and he'd slum it with Weasel in extremis.

"Do you want lunch Ferret?"

"What?" Hermione exclaimed before Draco could do the same.

"If Hermione is meeting up with that prat that means you are here alone right?"

"Yes indeed Weasel. Two minus one is one."

"Well I wouldn't leave my worst enemy alone with McLaggen and as you are my worst enemy..."

"Good point Weasel. Let's go." said Draco getting his outer robes off the back of his chair.

Hermione stared after them open-mouthed and wondered if she had a head injury she didn't know about yet.

"Alone at last" leered McLaggen.

* * *

As the unlikely pair walked away from the office they could see prat-of-the-moment Malcolm Hardy coming towards them. There was nowhere to avoid him and just as he hailed them a great shout and thump came from the office as Hermione finally lost her cool with McLaggen.

"It's always the quiet ones who surprise you with their, ahem, antics isn't it?" was Malcolm's lecherous opening comment to Hermione's hero ex-lover and her war criminal colleague. Apparently the man was dangerously stupid.

"Granger? A quiet one? You have met her haven't you?" Draco asked with a throbbing vein visible on his neck. When Malcolm looked at him in obvious puzzlement that someone of his own gender would disagree with him Malfoy continued "Oh I see. Well just because you bore her to tears doesn't mean she's a quiet one."

Ron burst out laughing and they both walked away leaving a second open-mouthed and dazed person in their wake.

* * *

Draco didn't return to the office for an hour and a half. Not that he could stomach Wealsey for that long but he eeked out his after lunch coffee as long as possible. There was no way he wanted to witness anymore of Granger and 'Mal'. Perhaps Potter's rage about Granger's love-life was contagious. He had now ranted about it at length in front of Weasleys twice in the last three days.

He needed to get actual work done this afternoon and he couldn't do that if he was distracted with an annoyance that bordered on seething. When he got to the office the door was closed but he could hear voices inside. It was probably McLaggen but he cracked open the door just in case the insufferable Mal was still inside.

"You are a great girl Hermione and I really like you but I'm just not able to settle down at the moment." Draco could see the prat standing beside Granger's desk, his view of her was obscured by the back of cardboard McLaggen.

"Settle down?" Draco knew that tone. It was the deceptive calm-before-the-storm tone Granger used when she was coldly angry. It was the tone she used on people who she caught abusing their houselves, the one she used to use on him.

"I know you are disappointed babe and I'm not saying it'll never happen for us, I'm just saying I have to step back for a while and in the meantime if Prince Charming comes along on a big white horse" Draco could see him lean in and put his hand over hers "you should get on the horse Hermione."

The very idea of Granger in the role of damsel in distress was laughable. Draco managed to hold in his incredulous snort. Granger didn't. She failed to hold in her mirth as she thanked Malcolm for his concern and dismissed him. The most unbelievable part of this for Draco was that it was a obvious the wanker had used the speech before and yet he still had not been castrated or had his nose broken.

And so The Prat exited stage right and Draco was left standing outside his own office once again amazed at the very low level of male companionship Granger was willing to put up with. There had to be better men out there. He was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

* * *

A/N Thanks to everyone who read, followed, faved and reviewed, particularly the reviewers. I'm have great fun writing this, as I hope you can tell, and it's just lovely to know others are enjoying it too.

As difficult as it is to believe a real live bloke actually said that "get on the horse" line to a very good friend of mine once and he has lived long in the hilarious annals of Gobshites we have Known and Snogged. I honestly don't think I could have written a line that cringeworthily good. So ladies you are warned, he is out there and he is Irish.

It is a pet annoyance of mine when fic authors refer to Hermione being a quiet one. Where are they getting this idea from? She may be proper but she's not quiet! Draco was cooperative enough in this chapter to help me get some of that annoyance off my chest, let's hope he keeps up that mood and I'll have another chapter for you soon.


	3. At Sixes and Sevens

Ginny looked again at the note in front of her on the kitchen table

_We need to talk. Expect me at 8. Get rid of Potter._

_DM _

It could sound more ominous. It could also say Tell No One or Reducto After Reading but as unexpected life events went receiving mysterious owls from Malfoy was fairly high on her list. She was tempted to leave it around and see what interpretation Harry's Auror senses made of it. Rampant paranoia with a hint of jealousy were her guesses but she wasn't cruel enough to find out, also she was dying of curiousity and it would be easier to get answers if Malfoy wasn't in a cell somewhere. She hoped Ron's idea was right and that she was going to have a front-row seat for the most unexpected romance since Professor Sprout and the lead singer of The Weird Sisters had that fling.

* * *

Hermione was panicking. She had to get this done. She had to hand it in. She'd been sure she'd handed it in already but it was lost or she hadn't. Her parents would be so disappointed if she didn't finish this. That's why she was in the stupid basement at this hour with a plan to photocopy everything she needed from these books and work all night. But the photocopier wouldn't work. Every time she tried to press the start button it disappeared and just plain plastic greeted her finger. She couldn't make it stay where it was supposed to be. She wasn't sure she had enough credits either and the machine only took Muggle money, all she had were galleons. She'd tried to put them in the slot but she'd realised they were chocolate at the last minute. She had to finish this or Harry would be killed and Ron would never forgive her. So she pressed and pressed and pressed the blank plastic moulding on the photocopier that split-seconds before had been the start button.

Then suddenly he was there, right behind her.

"It won't work and I have to finish this. It's important" she said with tears in her eyes and a tremble in her voice.

"Let me try" he said. Not a question: an imperative.

"What are you even doing here? This is a Muggle University."

"I'm always around really. I have the answer." He put his hands out to rest on the machine on either side of hers. She was still frantically pushing at the disappearing start button. He gently picked up her hand and moved it aside, briefly interlacing his fingers with hers. He pressed the button, which remained in place.

"How did you do that?" she said turning her face towards his. He was much closer than she'd thought.

"Magic" he said "I have magic in my hands." And with that he reached towards the card reader on the wall behind the machine bumping her slightly closer to him as he did so. He stretched his fingers over it and suddenly she had ten thousand credits, which didn't make any sense as the cards only held two hundred. Hermione didn't worry about that much though because Malfoy was dragging the tip of his nose up the side of her neck and it felt delicious.

"You shouldn't do that" she said shakily "I have to finish and you are distracting me."

"You finished it all already Granger" Draco whispered nuzzling into her hair near her ear "it's time for this now." He placed feather-light kisses from the smooth skin behind her ear in an arc through to her jaw. He stopped and rested his nose against her cheek, his forehead on the side of hers, one of his magic hands cupped her jaw on the other side of her face. Her eyes were lightly closed, she knew something important was happening.

"I want to be loved by you. Just you and nobody else but you" he said softly and she felt he was telling her the greatest secret in the universe.

"But..." she objected.

"We don't have time for this Granger" he said in an urgent but gentle voice.

"Granger, you have to come back Granger."

Hermione felt a rush of adrenaline and opened her eyes. He was crouching at the end of her desk, looking at her intently, his hand on her outstretched arm, circling her wrist.

"How did you get over there?" she asked and at the croaky sound of her own voice she knew she had been asleep. Her cheek was damp and she looked down at a pool of drool that was mortifyingly on her desk. She'd been dreaming. Oh God she'd been dreaming! She felt some huge revelation slipping away from her as the seconds passed and Malfoy looked at her with concern. There was something else as well when she wiped her cheek and looked at him, there was something in the look he was giving her that wasn't concern and wasn't the delight at finding her at a disadvantage that she was expecting to see on his face. He remained crouched at the edge of her desk and they looked at each other in silence for what felt like a long time.

"Are you ok?" he said eventually but his voice didn't sound quite right, it was gentler than it usually was. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I was dreaming" she replied. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't alright because he didn't have magic hands and he didn't want her to love him, in fact what he'd said was just an old song lyric that was bouncing around her brain and she felt bereft and devastated to be awake.

She opened her mouth to speak.

"Oh please do I have to watch the goo-goo eyes you two are making?" said Cut-Out Cormac. This shattered the spell they were both under. Malfoy stood and cleared his throat while Hermione shuffled the papers on her desk.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"It's 8 o'clock Granger and I have to be somewhere. I didn't want you to sleep here all night; I know what hell you are to work with when your back is sore."

"Did you finish that analysis for Susan?"

"Yes, not all of us were in the Land of Nod. Some of us were doing our fair share. Go home and get some rest so you can be useful tomorrow. Oh and don't go anywhere without sorting out your bloody hair." Malfoy exited the office as if he were on fire and she was left staring after him wondering what had just happened to get him so annoyed, what was going on in her subconcious to make it come up with that and why, all of a sudden, did she want to cry?

* * *

Granger had once told him that the problem with apparition and flooing was that you didn't have any travel time to collect yourself between engagements. At the time he'd dismissed it as part of her vomit-worthy series of observations that he mentally called "Muggles: The Same but Different". These were imparted whenever Granger saw fit and in such a patronising tone that he felt she should use sock puppets to complete the effect (really Granger tell me again about how Muggle inventions could replace house elves, I don't think I understood it the 49 other times maybe if you had some cute animal friends to help you explain?). He assumed most Muggles would be just as put off as he was by her didactic speeches. As he stood outside Potter's door just two minutes after leaving his office he finally got her point about the immediacy of wizarding travel.

He knew he'd got himself into this socially awkward situation where he intended to ask an old enemy to conspire with him to get a better love-life for a third party so that they could all have a slightly easier time socially and that it would need all his charm and cunning to find a good outcome. Now he was trying to do that while also battling an extremely potent urge to shout " WHAT the FUCK was THAT?" at the night sky. He needed some breathing space and possibly a large piece of parchment to work out why his heart was beating out of his chest and his fingers were itching to fix Hermione's hair for her. Here's what had happened:

1) Granger had fallen asleep

2) Granger had made _noises_

3) He had woken Granger up when he needed to leave the Office.

Yes that's what had happened. That was all that had happened and there was no reason to be frustrated beyond words right now. Everything was fine. He turned to knock at the door.

That was bollocks. That was not all that happened and he knew it.

1) Granger had fallen asleep.

2) Granger had made _noises_. This is where the wheels came off the idea that nothing had really happened this evening. He needed to think through the whole thing again. He snorted. As if it he hadn't been replaying it on a loop in his head constantly since!

They'd started out as distressed noises. He knew them, they were the huffy noises she used to make in their first year when she was too stressed to sleep. They were high pitched and whiny. He used to sort them out by taking her, bodily if necessary, to the duelling rooms in the basement so they could hex the crap out of one another for fifteen minutes. It always relaxed them but this time she was asleep so he went to wake her up. One arm had been flung out over her desk, twitching slightly. Her hand was shaking so he'd held it and called her name. The noises had stopped. He'd felt silly holding hands with a sleeping Granger so he made to let her go and she whimpered. It was not a stressed whimper. It was a Granger-noise he'd never heard before and it sounded very, very good.

He crouched down at the her desk so his head was level with hers to see her face. She was smiling now. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to stroke her soft cheek which was turning pink as he watched. She made another fantastic noise. It was sort of a high-pitched and brief hum, it was a world away from the stress noise. He could only think of one set of Granger-noises he hadn't heard: sex noises. Granger was having a dirty dream and it was like every noise she made went straight to his groin. It was a very long time since he'd had a good shag. It took another fabulous minute and three more noises, one of which was this amazing little sigh-thing, for him to realise he was holding Granger's hand while she had a sex dream about that wanker Hardy, or worse he'd given her ideas about McLaggen! He had to stop this.

3) He had woken her up. He called her name and said wakey-up things, not too loud, part of him wanted her to stay asleep and make more noises another part of him wanted all of her attention right, bloody now. Then she'd woken up and said something that left him more conflicted and frustrated than he'd ever been in his life before and he had faced some big moral conundrums in his time. "How did you get over there?" Him. He. Malfoy. In her dream. The dream that had made her make those noises. He'd stayed crouched where he was, it took all of his willpower not to pull her puffy cheeks and drooping eyes towards him and snog the face off her. She looked, vulnerable and childlike and perfect to him in that moment. He couldn't believe he'd woken her up before he'd found out how far the dream would go. Why had he done that? What had possessed him? Oh yes that was back before the world had changed, before he knew he was her dream man. Should he just kiss her? What would happen to them if he did? A million-and-one scenarios had played out in his head in record time. She had been staring at him as if he had all the answers. Her look was so powerful that he wanted it to be true. Her look could make a Slytherin do something reckless. And just as she had almost pushed him to the point of no return The Cut-Out Cockroach had interrupted.

And that was why he wanted to scream, in a manly way of course. He had well and truly stunned himself with his own wand.

"Malfoy! Much as I enjoy watching you mutter to yourself and pace up and down in my garden in the dark one of two things is about to happen: Harry will come home or the kids will wake up. Do you want to come in at all or were you just planning on going insane on my lawn?"

Ginny Potter was framed in the doorway with the light behind her. Oh yes that was what he was supposed to be doing now.

"You need to get Granger a proper boyfriend" he said as he all but pushed past her into the house. Sometimes a reputation as a rude bastard was a good thing to have. No one questioned it when you were awful.

"Welcome Malfoy. Oh no you shouldn't have brought me such an elaborate gift" she replied sarcastically making a face of wonderment and gesturing as if she were holding something.

"I'm serious. That Hardy excrescence dumped her the other day in the most pratish manner possible. I'm actually losing respect for her by the minute and I'm sure other people are too. She's no good to me if everyone thinks less of her because she puts up with this shit."

"Ron and I are already working on it. We hadn't realised that Hermione's love-life was all about you at the time though. Don't you even know how to pretend to be concerned for others? I'm serious Malfoy you should get some classes in that 'Having a Soul for Beginners' or something."

"It is concern for her. If we fall out, we can't work together and neither of us can work with anyone else in the department. Our career trajectories will look like a failed Wronski Feint." Oh shit, that's actually true, he thought. "So is the plan to get her and The Weasel back together then?"

"No!" said Ginny as loudly as she could when trying not to wake up two small children. "And no one who is a friend to either of them would thank you for suggesting it!"

"Was it that bad?" Malfoy couldn't help but smirk. He didn't want to analyse why he was happy Granger's Great Love was a wash-out but he was certainly was happy about it.

"Awful! As soon as they started having sex they stopped being friends. They were vile to each other whenever they were vertical."

"You can have sex while vertical Mini-Weasel."

"I don't like thinking about my brothers having sex in any level of detail, particularly when it's with my best friend but thanks for the mental image Ferret."

Malfoy sniggered like a schoolboy.

"We have someone else in mind. He fits most of Hermione's criteria." Ginny continued ignoring the childishness completely, growing up in a house full of schoolboys made for excellent training in that department.

"She doesn't seem to have any standards so her criteria can't be too taxing" Malfoy claimed.

"Her criteria are clear, she likes them good-looking, successful at their jobs, good conversation is a plus but I think her track record would say looks are more important" Ginny said in a matter of fact tone.

"I thought you were supposed to be her friend!" Draco protested

"A minute ago you said she'd no standards at all" Ginny pointed out, still calm. "Besides I'd say it's a fairly accurate description of the women you date, why should Hermione be any different is it because she's a woman?"

"No it's because she's a much, much better person than I am who's nice to old people and babies and magical creatures but you're making her sound shallow and...and ridiculous. How will you find her a better boyfriend if that's what you think? This is, it's just...all wrong" Draco was spluttering he was so annoyed.

There was a wail from upstairs.

"I have to go now Malfoy. Ron and I are sorting this out, we know her best after all but you might want to ask yourself exactly why you care so much. Close the door as you leave"

She left a still spluttering Draco and disappeared up the stairs.

* * *

Ginny Potter stopped and did a victory dance on the landing when she heard the door slam. She hoped that was just enough torment but not too much because that was _sooo _much fun. Now for the much scarier Phase 2: Hermione.

* * *

A/N Why does Ginny do a victory dance every time I write her in any story? These are the questions I ask myself late at night when I can't sleep. I realised that I have not once in this story disclaimed ownership of Harry Potter. Consider it disclaimed everyone, consider it disclaimed.

Much more seriously I forgot to thank my beta whytejigsaw. Thanks petal *waves*. She writes excellent Sherlock fic. Go forth and read it.

Thanks so much to everyone who read, followed and reviewed. It was really lovely to come home from work to all of your alerts. Honestly it made my day, particularly the reviews. It was very nice of you.


	4. At Odds

In the early part of the following week Harry and Ron turned up unannounced, yet again, to take Hermione to lunch. It annoyed her no end that they did this. Whenever she tried to organise time with just the three of them, the boys, as she still called them, were impossible to pin down to a day they could both make. Yet every once in a while they both turned up and just expected her to drop everything. It meant every occasion they had together started out as an argument.

"No."

"You have to eat at some point Hermione" said Harry with what he thought was a winning smile.

"I don't have time for a full lunch. You always do this, ambush me when I haven't time to spend catching up. We have a meeting with Susan Bones at half two and it's a quarter past one now."

"You'd have more catch-up time if you didn't spend so long resisting the inevitable" said Harry.

"He's right. You know I'll carry you out of here over my shoulder if I have to. It's what I bring to our post-war dynamic: I'm shameless now." said Ron with a shrug.

"You may be shameless but you're not stupid."

"Why thank you Hermione" said Ron with a wink to Harry.

"I'm saying that you know better than to try and manhandle me. You know I wouldn't hesitate to hex you where the sun doesn't shine and then tell Verity so she can do the same."

"Harry, you're The Chosen One, you carry her."

"I try to be less suicidal with my bravery these days, Ron, but thanks for the vote of confidence" said Harry. "I'll appeal to your stomach instead. I booked us a table at that little Muggle place" he said looking at Hermione with the same smile as earlier.

"The one that had the rhubarb crumble?" she asked, the hitch of pure desire in her voice. Harry nodded.

It wasn't fair of them to manipulate her like this. They shouldn't tempt her with rhubarb crumble: it was her weakness. With dentist parents she was only ever allowed fruit desserts. Crumbles and pies were the real treats and rhubarb crumble had been her favourite food since she was a small child.

Harry leaned in over her desk and whispered "You're an adult now. You can have custard too and no one will stop you." And with that her resolve, well, crumbled. She may have muttered a few choice epithets about the two of them but in general the walk to the cafe was a jolly one.

They'd finished a lovely lunch and were awaiting their desserts (rhubarb crumble with custard, apple pie with cream and Death by Chocolate) when things started to go downhill.

"So Ginny said that Mal idiot has scarpered, Thank Merlin" Harry commented.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed shocked that her normally gentle friend had said something so bitchy.

"What? You can't possibly have liked him Hermione. He's the worst one you've ever gone out with."

"Nah, there was that bloke who was trying to make Dragon Wrestling a sport. He was definitely worse" said Ron, spearing chocolate goop with his fork. "No matter how many times I pointed out that they are HUGE and can FLY and breath FIRE he still didn't seem to get it. I've never seen Charlie want to punch anyone before."

"I'd forgotten about him" said Harry pausing a moment to think "but Hardy was worse. Even Malfoy hated him you said. When an alpha-tosser like Malfoy declares a bloke insufferable you know he's in a whole new category of bad. I bet His Ferretness was delighted Hardy pushed off, wasn't he, Hermione? He's back to being the only tosser in your life."

"Oh I wouldn't say he's the only tosser in my life" said Hermione through gritted teeth.

"Have you found someone else already? Blimey that was quick" Ron commented missing the insult in her statement.

"No I haven't but I'm delighted to know that my life choices have so much support from my best friends" she hissed back at them both. This judgmental commentary was really ruining her rhubarb crumble.

"We do support you Hermione. We love you but even you have to admit that your love-life is a magical disaster area. You never bring home even an ok bloke. How is that possible? They can't all be tossers coincidentally, you'd have to hit on a semi-decent one sometimes?" Harry reasoned.

"So what are you saying? That I have rubbish taste in men?"

"Yes" they said in unison.

She really couldn't believe this conversation, quite apart from openly talking about dragons in a Muggle cafe. They had an unsaid pact that they didn't interfere with one another romantically, not since the almost-trio-ending debacle that had been her and Ron. Why was everyone deciding to suddenly step over their boundaries at the moment? Malfoy was in her face (not to mention her dreams) about goodness knew what and the boys apparently thought they had voting rights in her private life. Malcolm wasn't that bad, was he?

She said as much. "Honestly, Malcolm, just wasn't that bad. You're making a fuss about nothing."

At this they both started to talk at once. She wasn't able to follow all of what they were saying but the passion with which they were saying it was very clear. She caught the phrases "insult to Fred's memory" "defeated Voldemort all by himself" and "implied _stuff_ about you".

She held her hands up to indicate that she understood. They hated Mal. Unfortunately they were too far gone to drop the topic in mid-flow but they did start to speak in turn.

"You're so great. What's with all the arseholes? It makes no sense, you don't even seem to like them that much" was Ron's exasperated comment.

"And I think Malfoy's wrong that only morons find you attractive because loads of blokes fancied you at school!" Harry exclaimed.

"WHAT?" was Hermione's rant-stopping one word response.

"Yeah at Seamus's stag everybody starting confessing to crushes they'd had and it turns out you were fairly popular but no one said anything because of me, sorry about that" Ron clarified with an apologetic shrug but Hermione's eyes hadn't moved from Harry.

"Malfoy said what?" her tone might sound cold but both Harry and Ron knew her well enough to know she was really, properly hurt.

"He said that epic-prats find you attractive" Harry said, much more apologetically, finally realising how that must sound to her.

"Right. Right. Because fancying me is something only an epic-prat would do, of course" Hermione said to the remains of her dessert. "And you just let him say that did you? What were you even doing talking to Malfoy about who I date? Was this before or after you were lunch-mates, Ron?" She looked at Ron's stricken face and knew the truth. "Oh before of course, that's what you bonded over, the burden my love-life is on all of you!"

Hermione rose and gathered her coat, bag and hat, muffling herself against the elements while trying and failing to contain her absolute disbelief that lunch had gone this way. "It must have been lovely for the three of you to find something in common at last! I'm so glad I helped heal that post attempted-genocide awkwardness! And I suppose you have a point, maybe I do have shit taste in men. After all, until this afternoon I would have counted all three of you in the four most important men in my life and it turns out my Dad is the only one of the four who isn't an unbelievable arsehole!"

With this she left, her scarf trailing out of her coat sleeve which marred her dramatic exit somewhat. It was ten past two somehow she had to get back to the office and calm down in the next twenty minutes.

* * *

Ron and Harry looked at each other over the remains of Hermione's abandoned crumble. If they had been unsure just how bad this situation was abandoned rhubarb crumble made sure they knew that she was more thoroughly upset than either of them could remember since the war.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this but I think we have to warn Malfoy" said Harry as he ran a hand through his hair.

"You dragged him into it so you get that bit of fun" Ron replied. "You might want to mention that you made it sound like he thought fancying her was stupid."

"And what are you going to do to sort this mess out?" Harry snapped putting on his coat and watching in disbelief as Ron continued to finish his cake.

"I'm calling in reinforcements, we'll need 'em." When Ron looked up from the end of his cake to reach for the remains of the crumble he saw Harry's puzzled expression and added "Ginny and possibly Verity."

Harry shook his head, why hadn't he thought of Ginny? It was possible that it was because he was an unbelievable arsehole.

* * *

Hermione walked, or rather stalked, to the New Ministry building. She hated apparating when she was upset; firstly it was too easy to be distracted and secondly she needed the time to collect herself and formulate a plan. She badly needed to calm down. She'd already lost her cool entirely in front of Harry and Ron, there was no need to do so in front of Malfoy. No, Malfoy was going to get her frostiest advocate manner. She'd been laughably naive to let down her guard around him. Moody's constant vigilance may not have been meant as advice to avoid heartache but she still felt ridiculous for having ignored it.

This pessimistic side of her personality wasn't surprised at the Harry-and-Ron part. It was depressingly reminiscent of their teenage years when they had failed to notice she was female with distressing frequency. She was genuinely hurt by Draco though. Obviously he wouldn't touch her with a bargepole himself, that went without saying, but she thought he'd be able to be objective. It was one of his good traits. He never tried to charm or flatter her, something she found refreshing since the war, so when he gave a compliment it was hard-won. Granted he'd never said much about her appearance but she'd presumed he found her acceptable at some basic level. If she weren't presentable and professional he would surely let her know, he was more than able to point out her faults.

Instead it turned out he found her so clownishly awful that only an idiot could think of her romantically. The part of her subconscious that had triggered those dreams must be feeling pretty embarrassed with itself right about now.

She'd trusted him. That was what hurt. Although they'd never formally spoken about it she'd just known he was sorry for everything that happened at school and in the war. He made very few references to their shared past. They had a silly habit of doing impressions of Snape and McGonagall in the middle of arguments but that just lightened the mood. They were friends, or so she'd thought. They were partners and she'd trusted him, trusted all three of them. It was like a real-life, adult version of a nightmare she used to have in school where Harry and Ron suddenly hated her because she was Muggle-born. In this version, the three men she was closest to, well that weren't her relatives, sat around thinking up synonyms for the type of moron you'd have to be to find her attractive.

Did she know him at all? He was unpredictable at the best of times but lately she felt he was even more inscrutable than normal. She had no idea what his point was with the whole Cut-Out Cormac thing, and that was just one example. His odd reaction to her break-up with Mal was another. He'd come back into the office just moments after it had happened and slammed things about as if he were in a temper. "Tell me you didn't sleep with that absolute arsehole" had been his only comment. She didn't answer. She and Malfoy didn't talk about their personal lives and she was sure she didn't want to start, not if it meant hearing running commentary on his latest conquests. He'd lost his temper with her again after the first dream. That whole night brought up lots of questions but one of them was why had Malfoy left in a snot that he'd remained in ever since? What right did he have to annoyed? She was the one betrayed by her subconscious.

This analysis did little to calm her down. If she were cross-examining herself she would have pointed out that it appeared her friendship with Malfoy was entirely illusory. What evidence could she present that it existed other than for over three years they had managed not to kill each other? Did they organise to see each other outside of work? No. Did they share their hopes dreams and aspirations? No. She could almost hear Draco sneering "And we don't plait each other's hair either, Granger, what's your bloody point?". Her point was that she and Malfoy were nothing more than colleagues and she'd been a fool to think otherwise.

Frosty professionalism, that was the plan. Get through this meeting with Susan and get home courtesy of frosty professionalism.

* * *

"So let me sum up your barely comprehensible splutterings Potter: you took her out to lunch to cheer her up but instead you have managed to whine about how her love-life annoys you, imply she shouldn't be allowed make her own decisions, hint she's unattractive and, to top it all off with cherry, drag me into this mess. Is that about right? I don't want to leave anything out."

Harry was having such a vivid Potions flashback that he wasn't able to answer straight away. Did Malfoy know his Snape impression was scarily good? Was it even on purpose or could all Slytherins do it? These were question for another time, a time when Gryffindor courage wasn't needed to admit a big mistake to someone you had formerly hated. Deep breath Harry.

"I may also have told her that you said only idiots are attracted to her."

"WHAT?"

"That's exactly what she said, except even louder."

There was very long and ominous silence. All Harry could hear was Malfoy's deep breathing, he was tempted to remind the blond that he was an Auror and as such attacking him was a serious crime, it would certainly end his probation.

"I have just one question Potter: did you do this on purpose?"

"Which specific bit?" asked Harry with a grimace.

"The bit where you took what I said and twisted it so as to make it sound like I am just the sort of bastard she always suspected I am."

"No of course not! Do you think I would hurt Hermione like this?"

"No I don't. If you'd done this on purpose to fuck me over there would at least be someway to respect it but this is just your usual ridiculous good luck gone bad. Thank Merlin this didn't happen during the war or you'd have lost!"

It was hard for Harry to listen to such a succinct summation of his career out of the mouth of Malfoy but he certainly wasn't in a position to object. He could feel that Malfoy was about to dismiss him and he would have gone quietly, which is why it was such bad timing that Hermione walked in at that moment. If she'd been thirty seconds later he'd have been gone. His luck really had deserted him today.

"Granger..." Malfoy started in an annoyed tone but Harry never found out how the sentence would've ended.

"So sorry to interrupt such a sensitive meeting. I'm sure you have lots to discuss. It's just a pity Ron isn't here to make quorum for you" was Hermione's attempt at breezy sarcasm. She rummaged in her desk for a scroll and then walked back over to the two protesting males. She was deaf to any of their pleas to listen.

"Sorry Malfoy but I can't make that meeting with Susan now, here's my presentation you can give it. Everyone at that meeting will be too intelligent to look at me properly anyway."

"Where are you going?" said Malfoy looking at her so intently that Harry suspected he was attempting legilimency.

"I'm taking some personal leave" Hermione replied, not fully meeting his eyes yet her stance was still defiant.

"Take me with you babe. I can be all sorts of personal" said Cut-Out Cormac looking at her with very blatant desire. Hermione paused in mid-stride before turning and hitting the cardboard harasser twice with her large handbag. Then for good measure she sent a hex directly at his two-dimensional groin. Harry and Draco winced in tandem and Harry stepped fully out of her way. Malfoy stepped into it, blocking the door.

"I'll tell Bones you have food-poisoning but I expect you here tomorrow morning, Granger."

"Isn't it a good job that I don't give a flying fuck about your expectations then, Malfoy?" she shouted trying to get past him out the door.

"No matter how angry you are now, Granger, you have to deal with me sooner or later. You can't just sweep out of here and dismiss me from your life. I'm not Weasley. I won't go quietly into that good night."

"I don't know what you are talking about just get out of my bloody way, Malfoy!"

"Go on then, have your tantrum! Don't forget to slam the buggering door too!" he shouted after her as she did just that.

Harry had spent the last few minutes wishing he could apparate within the Ministry or that he had his cloak, or even a time-turner on him. This argument was worse than any he'd ever seen her have with Ron and he felt dirty, like a peeping tom, for having seen it at all. Malfoy stood seething by the door, his shoulders rising and falling in an effort to regain control.

"I'll talk to her. I'll explain" Harry said. It was a long time since he'd felt he owed Malfoy anything and it had never been a feeling he enjoyed.

"You've done enough damage, Potter, either she works out that I don't think that on her own or she never will."

"I can't just leave her that upset. She's my friend!"

"Bloody Gryffindors! Alright Potter if you must, Merlin knows no one has found a way to stop you yet just leave me out of it and get out. I have work to do."

Harry left their office and went straight to his, where he found Ginny and Ron waiting for him. This oddness seemed totally in tune with how the rest of his day was going. That morning, when his big worry was how to get his wand out of James' nose before Ginny noticed, seemed a very long time ago.

"How is she?" asked Ginny.

"She is very very angry, she hexed the bollocks off Cut-Out Cormac but as bad as that is I think we have a bigger problem."

The two redheads were turned towards him waiting for him to explain what on earth was worse than a pissed-off Hermione, so he just paused for a moment and then said the unthinkable.

"I think Malfoy is in love with her."

* * *

A/N Thanks for reading and sorry for the wait! Thanks again to my wonderful beta whytejigsaw.

I've loved everyone of your reviews, particularly the ones I'm not sure I understood :) I know I said Harry would behave better later in the story and here he is being a prat and a half but I'm sure he will behave better at some stage! I have little or no control over these characters! Sorry this is a bit angsty but I have humourous intentions I promise!

Thanks for reading, following, reviewing etc I am just so chuffed with you all.


	5. At Home with The Grangers

"Can I come over now?"

Jane Granger knew by the sound of her daughter's voice that something was wrong even without the extra clue that it was the middle of the working day. Sometimes you just need your Mum and no-one else will do. As soon as it was verified that the coast was clear Hermione hung up and apparated into the kitchen. It had taken years for Jane Granger to get used to her daughter's ability to do that but now it was so normal that she was surprised when her friend's children couldn't do it. On some level she felt they just weren't trying hard enough.

She put on the kettle and asked her opening question for these occasions: "What have they done?"

It was hard not to feel very ambivalent about Hermione's two best friends. If she'd just been friends with anyone else she'd have been much safer. She could have gone with them to Australia and attended university like a normal person; no wars, no death, no torture, no memory loss. It was difficult to embrace the wizarding world with open arms after all that. On the other hand she didn't just suspect, she actually knew, that her daughter had friends who would fight and die to protect her. Like any other set of friends, they had their more mundane problems too. Although, as parents, they'd escaped the Byzantine politics of female teenage friendships, Harry and Ron's ability to upset her daughter had lasted well beyond school. They were the only ones who could cause her to flap like this. Jane Granger silently wished that her daughter would have emotional problems caused by a male of the species that wasn't Harry Potter or Ron Weasley.

That was why she gave herself extra points for not dropping the boiling kettle completely when Hermione burst into sobs that contained only one recognisable word: Draco. Well this was a pleasant surprise! It took about ten minutes and three sugar-free biscuits to hear the whole story

"So it is the boys' fault?" commented a confused Jane Granger when she'd heard all.

"Yes. No. I thought Malfoy was a...a friend. I thought I could trust them all but instead they think I'm some sort of joke. I feel like a total fool."

"Hermione my love, you know that I am hardly the biggest fan of Harry or Ron but do you think they would actually let someone say that and not be had up before the wizenthingy on assault charges?"

"Wizengamot Mum. I work there. No but I also thought hell would freeze over before they'd agree with Malfoy about anything so clearly my judgment can't be trusted."

"And did Mr Malfoy confirm Harry's version of the conversation?"

"Well no but I was so angry when I saw them talking about me again that I didn't want to listen to anything either of them said."

Jane Granger knew there was something deeper going on and that this conversation was well overdue. What she didn't know was how to broach this particular topic so she thought of a distraction. "Lets go for a walk" she said. Hermione had grown up in a house where colourful wellies and sturdy umbrellas were always ready and waiting next to the door. The Grangers were firm believers in the benefit of a walk to cure all ills. Jane also knew that both her daughter and husband were much more amenable when they'd just won something. After ten minutes of idle chit-chat about Hermione's childhood friends and the goings on of the neighbours in the fresh air, they reached a little bridge over the river where Jane Granger strategically lost several rounds of Pooh-sticks* to her trusting daughter.

"You always were rubbish at this game Mum."

"Yes I think you inherited your talent from your father. You know that I don't agree with the boys, munchkin, but why do you think you haven't been serious about anyone since Ron?"

"I'm not still in love with him, Mum if that's what you're worried about."

"No it's not that but you never bring any of these men home. We've never even met Mr. Malfoy come to think of it."

"No I suppose I haven't been very serious about any of them really. They've been difficult to be serious about."

Jane Granger placed a hand over her daughter's on the little stone bridge. "You know that it's alright if you aren't interested in them at all, don't you? If your heart lies elsewhere your father and I will be fine with that."

Hermione blushed deeply "I don't know what you mean Mum" but Jane suspected she saw her meaning very clearly if that blush was any indication.

Jane Granger screwed her courage to the sticking place and said "If you want to bring home a nice girl sometime we'd love to meet her."

"Girl?" Hermione spluttered

"Oh yes sorry, I mean woman, girl is disrespectful, isn't it? We'd welcome her is all I'm saying."

"Mum I'm not gay!" Hermione exclaimed just as a Mr Ridgeway from across the road walked past them with his dog. He nodded to them in a very embarrassed manner and hurried away as quickly as his fat little dog would allow.

"Well bisexual then."

"I'm not that either!"

"You're not? You like men?"

"Yes! Very much! Believe me if you could see into my dreams at the moment you'd be in no doubt at all about that!"

"Well then pet I'm not sure what we are talking about. I thought you were here because Mr Malfoy told them you were gay and the boys finally confronted you about all of your, I believe the term is beards, am I right?"

"What we're talking about is the three of them probably think lesbianism would be a good move for me as a man would have to be daft to like me romantically. It could be a sideways move though, maybe my taste in women would be just as bad!"

"Do they think Ron's daft then?"

"Malfoy does, did at least, until they started having lunches together, now who knows?" Hermione put her head in her hands on the bridge. "I'm so confused. And you think I'm gay! This has been the oddest day."

Jane Granger rubbed her daughter's back. So Hermione wasn't gay, well she wasn't the only one who was confused then. There was something causing this distress, something that was holding this bright young woman back from forming a meaningful relationship.

Jane had been happier with her own explanation that Hermione was in a loving relationship she was keeping secret. "Oh pet! Why don't you stay with us for a few days? Let's see if we can untangle some of this mess" and with that she put her arm around Hermione's shoulders and walked them back home.

* * *

Despite his very clear instructions Granger did not appear the next morning, or the morning after that, or the one after that. Really it was intolerable, she was behaving like a child. He had almost swallowed his pride and gone to that ridiculous wench in HR to see what Granger's excuse was but that would mean showing a weakness in their partnership to someone in the department. He would rather have Longbottom wax his chest hair off with a potion of his own devising than allow that to happen.

The meeting with Bones hadn't gone well. He had failed to be civil to anyone and Bones had taken it upon herself to severely reprimand him afterwards. "Get Hermione in here or we'll get some other advocates" were her exact words. Draco knew that there were a majority of his peers in The New Ministry who wouldn't work with him were he not part of the Granger package. They didn't realise she was a snotty, self-important toddler who couldn't comprehend orders. They didn't know she was unmitigated hell to work with (or without said a voice in his head he chose to ignore). They wanted the war-hero, well who didn't? He didn't, he didn't except in a professional capacity!

Draco was frustrated. All his work projects were stuck without Granger. So he was left sitting in their office with very little to do but think. He didn't like what he was thinking. Well he liked it quite a lot actually but let's just say it wasn't constructive. He had developed several detailed and competing ideas of how The Night There Was Noises could have ended differently. It was a strategic thought experiment. He thought out various ways he could have acted and then mentally simulated Granger's possible reactions. Sometimes she slapped him, sometimes she kissed him back and once, in an experiment he'd quite enjoyed, she'd removed her blouse and done a little dance. The experiment he returned to most was one where he stroked her sleepy cheek and she ran her fingers through his hair without waking. It was interestingly consistent. That was why he ran that experiment more than the others, to check for consistency.

This was exactly what she wanted. She wanted to leave him high and dry so that he would miss her. It was such a crude move that it was hard for him to admire it but he was forced to, against his will, because it was bloody working. Flicking parchment balls at Cut-Out Cormac was insufficient distraction. It was fundamentally a lot less fun if she wasn't there to tell him off for playing games. He'd baited the oiks too but he could see her pained expression in his head and it just sucked all the enjoyment out of it. He'd now reordered their precedent scrolls three times. His desk was immaculate and all that ridiculous paperwork The New Ministry insisted he complete to prove he was reformed was up to date for once. Being held hostage by Granger was getting thoroughly old. His anger was growing.

Even his mother commented on his foul mood when they met for their weekly luncheon. He tried to explain his problem but his mother musn't have been listening because her only comment was to order him to apologise to Miss Granger. He hadn't done anything wrong he explained.

"And why does that matter?"

"Are you suggesting I apologise even though it's Potter's fault? I've been the one defending her. She should know I don't think that."

"And again I wonder why that matters Draco? Your work is suffering, your career is in jeopardy and quite apart from those concerns you have become tedious."

"Tedious!"

"Yes. You have yet to ask me a single question about my week or allow me to speak more that two sentences together and yet we are here over half an hour Draco. There is very little need for me to be here it seems if you aren't going to extend your mother the courtesy of listening to her."

Draco harumphed but managed not to interrupt further.

"Are you Slytherin or not Draco? It is clear that the majority of your immediate problems would be solved were Miss Granger to return to work. From that basis you could continue to thrash out any differences of opinion that persist about your feelings for her."

Draco made a small cry of protest at this turn of phrase but Narcissa looked at him with an expression that silenced him quickly. It was a look she had used when he had claimed Potter cheated at Quidditch in school. It said "if you wish to believe that dearest you may but I see things as they really are" all in one look.

"As I was saying your best starting point is an apology. If the war has taught us one thing, Draco, it is the expedience of a well-timed apology, is it not? Retrieve your Miss Granger and then set to work resolving the situation in you favour." Narcissa fussed daintily with her napkin, an indication that luncheon was at an end. Draco rose to assist her out of her chair.

"Remember she is a Gryffindor, Draco, directness and uncouth honesty may be the best way to achieve your aims." With this she kissed his cheek and flooed away, presumably to continue her plans to take over wizarding society, as usual Draco was grateful that was the extent of her ambitions. Merlin help them all if she ever decided to rule the world.

* * *

Hermione had gone down to breakfast the morning after her confusing day to find three owls waiting patiently outside her parents' patio doors. She'd collected her letters to get rid of the conspicuous nocturnal birds but hadn't read them. She knew who they were from: Harry, Ron and Ginny. She wasn't ready to accept any apologies or negotiations yet. She needed time to understand why this had thrown her so off-balance.

When she'd stolen the arts section of the newspaper, her father's only comment had been "I hear you're not a lesbian dear. That's nice." He shuffled the rest of the newspaper into his briefcase and said "should any other crises of sexual identity occur bring them to me in my library for I am quite at leisure." It was a family joke to paraphrase Jane Austen at any opportunity. Hermione knew her father's pretence at Mr. Bennett's aloof amusement was a cover for his real concern. He proved it when he kissed her forehead and said "I am glad you are come back Hermione" as he left for the surgery. Since they had returned from Australia her parents had scaled back their practice and were now both semi-retired. They were still young and wanted to enjoy their lives more now they remembered them.

The following days did little to resolve the hurt that she, in her heart of hearts, felt to be unreasonable. Why had she been literally able to laugh off Hardy's ridiculous little speech when it should have hurt, at least a small amount? Why did a snide remark from a man who had called her much worse, whose relatives had tortured her, leave her such a wreck she'd had to retreat to her childhood home. Was it because Harry and Ron were involved too? She simply wasn't sure. Hermione was good at other people's feelings but bad at her own. She often took several days to process what was going on in her own heart. She liked to have some time to herself on these occasions but she rarely got it.

She certainly wasn't getting it this time. Her mother and herself had briskly walked all over the local landscape by day three. The Granger Scrabble War had raged in the evenings and afternoons were usually taken up with ignoring Harry, Ron and Ginny as loudly as possible. She was sure that by this stage local radio phone-in shows were getting calls about the huge increase in daytime owl sightings. Thank goodness most of the patronus visits had happened when she was indoors. She just turned up her music to ignore them. Once it had happened on a walk and she had stuck her fingers in her ears and sung loudly like a child having a tantrum. It annoyed her immensely that they were using magical methods of communication even though they knew she was at home. Harry, at least, should know better. Then she felt guilty for being angry at Harry. He had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure that The Order bought her parents house when they sold it under her spell. He wanted her to have somewhere of her own when the war was over. The fact that she had a childhood home to retreat to was down to him and the twins, who had done the actual purchasing. At times like this she was more grateful than she could say. Harry would never want to return to his childhood home so he only had a theoretical idea of how wonderful what he had done was.

Something in the universe seemed out-of-balance when she was at odds with Harry and Ron. She couldn't maintain it long term. It felt like someone had bound her arms and she couldn't move about in the world properly. She had always felt that way. What surprised her was just how much she missed Malfoy. The metaphorical bound arms were a nuisance but her misgivings about her friendship with Draco was like a gaping wound: angry, throbbing and taking up most of her attention. In last night's scrabble game she'd played the words "snarky", "snide", "pureblood" and the dispute-causing "tosser". Even she had to admit there was a theme there. She kept playing back instances from their working life that she had mentally categorised as friendship and wondering how she could have misinterpreted them so thoroughly. She missed what she had come to think of as friendly banter but apparently was just ordinary name-calling. She missed what she thought was respect for her abilities but must be simple self-interest in the forwarding of his own career. She missed them all the more because now she knew not only that she would never have them again but that they had never existed in the first place. When she looked at things from a Slytherin perspective, she could see that she was the perfect partner to reform his reputation and that some pretence at friendship was a strategic sop to her Gryffindor sensibilities. What a fool she had been. She simply didn't want to live in a world where everyone else had been right about him. Ignorance had been a much happier place.

On her fourth day at home she was starting to chafe under the yoke of parental oppression, or that's what she would have said as a teenager. Nowadays she just wished she had a sibling to moan about them with. Why did Mum have to carry a towel at all times in the house? Why did Dad never hear a question the first time you asked him? She needed a plan to return to work in defence of her long-term sanity. In typical Granger-style, she felt a long walk might help. Wellingtons and a cagoule were donned and fresh air was sought for its problem-solving abilities.

After two hours of tramping she had formulated something, to call it a plan was over-stating matters. She would go back to work and simply keep her relationship with Malfoy totally professional. She wouldn't stay late and get dinner with him anymore. She wouldn't ask about his lunches with his mother. She wouldn't tolerate him exercising his "sense of fun" at her. She would clock in and clock out and think about which other department would offer her the best opportunities, everyone needed a good advocate. Above all she would remember that anything Malfoy did was a ploy.

When she could see her house again she was surprised there was a black cab waiting outside it. Her parents both drove so a taxi was unexpected. She quickened her pace wondering if perhaps Harry had taken it into his head to visit in person. She took off her wellies in the hall and called out a greeting. There a small sound of laughter and tinkling china from the front room. Not Harry then. She popped her very bushy head in to greet whatever friend of her parents had dropped by. She wasn't expecting Draco Malfoy to be calmly sitting on her parents settee in a Muggle pinstripe suit balancing a cup and saucer on his knee. He looked the picture of suburban normality.

"Malfoy?" she asked, once again questioning her sanity as she had when he lunched with Ron.

"Oh hello Granger. Your parents were just telling me all the embarrassing stories of your childhood. You know the ones. I like the socks" he replied with a smirk.

Hermione looked down to find she was wearing her Scooby-Doo socks. So much for maintaining a cool exterior when she saw him. She drew herself up to her full height and reminded herself that he was on her turf. "What are you doing here?" she asked in as calm a tone as she could muster.

"I came to fetch you. Susan is threatening to find other advocates if you don't come back. The Oiks may all become mysteriously ill without your restraining influence and frankly I am bored senseless without you. I thought I'd appeal to your heroic streak and ask you to save us all by returning."

Damn him! Damn him to Hades! He was using his most charming manner! And in front of her mother too! Hermione could see her melting out of the corner of her eye.

"At noon on a Friday? It's so urgent it couldn't wait until next week? How did you even get here, we're not on the Floo?"

"I thought the dramatic last-minute nature of things might appeal to you more. I came in a cab, they're really quite ingenious you know, you can hire them for just a short period of time" he explained to the Drs Granger.

"Yes, we know" Peter Granger nodded slowly. He often had a similar reaction to conversations with Arthur Weasley.

"Of course you would, my apologies, it's just that we have no equivalent. You can't even rent brooms."

Hermione looked at her parents and back at Malfoy. They were all behaving as if this were not the oddest thing to ever have happened. She refused to be bamboozled by him yet again. She would have the upper hand.

"Alright Malfoy. You can take the cab. I'll meet you back at the office in an hour. Ask Susan for a meeting at the end of this afternoon." She opened the door to the hall to indicate that he was dismissed. She could see his momentary discomfiture. This was not going as he had planned, whatever his plan had been. He recovered quickly.

"Excellent, Granger, see you there" he said rising and straightening his suit jacket. He said polite goodbyes to her Muggle parents and exited stage left. It was only when she heard the cab pull away from the house and drive down the street that she allowed herself to sag onto the settee he had been occupying. Her parents looked at each other in shock. They had finally met Mr. Malfoy, well that raised a lot more questions than it had answered and the questions were interesting.

* * *

Draco could not break through her reserve with him either that afternoon or the following week. She never gave him the chance to offer the apology his mother had advised. She was all business all the time. She didn't even crack a smile when she noticed that he'd found a way to stuff Cut-Out Cormac's cardboard socks into his cardboard mouth. It was almost worse than when she'd been absent. Granted he couldn't look at her when she'd been absent. Looking at her was a definite positive to having her physically present. He was doing quite a lot of it just to remind himself why it was he'd bought a Muggle suit and allowed himself to be driven in that death machine by a Muggle driver. All the looking at her had given him ideas for several new thought experiments he was enjoying but there was some basic Grangerness missing that kept causing the experiments to break down at the most inopportune moments.

Even though she was all business, it also seemed like she was detaching. She deferred to his opinion in all the sticky cases. Each time they finished a piece of work she asked him what happened next. It was annoying! He wanted bolshy, ranting Hermione back. She was treating him as if he were some colleague she was utterly bored by. Him! Draco Malfoy! He'd never been boring in his life! He was at his wits end. Maybe it was time to persuade Theo Nott to mistreat his house-elves again? True, it was a classic but maybe it would bring back some of her passion?

On Thursday, the damn broke. When he came back from luncheon with his mother, who'd let out an audible sigh whenever he broached his work problems, he saw Granger sharing a fond goodbye with Potter and Weasley, complete with bloody hugs, in the hallway. He pushed his way past them ignoring the greetings of both men.

In the thirty seconds it took her to join him in the office, he'd become so enraged he thought accidental magic might spill out of his very pores. She waltzed in as if nothing had happened and started shuffling the papers on her desk.

"So you just forgive them and yet I continue to get treated like hippogriff dung?"

"Pardon?"

"You heard me."

"I did but I don't understand you. I treat you as I'd treat any professional colleague."

"Bollocks!"

"If you have a problem perhaps you should talk to HR about it. Or, of course, you could discuss it with a friend."

"I thought I was doing that." That hit home. He saw his Granger for a brief second before the polyjuiced patsy who'd replaced her returned again. It made him even angrier, if that were possible. She was in there somewhere and he'd have to get really radical to get her out.

"What's next?" she asked shuffling her papers again. She clearly wanted the conversation to return to matters of the law. Well, you can't always get what you want they say. He walked over to the side of her desk. She didn't even look up at him, too intent on her parchments. She had no idea what was going to hit her, oh revenge was sweet.

"The next thing that happens Granger is that I ask you out."

"What?" her head whipped round to where he was standing. He'd never seen such a perfect expression of shock.

"And then you say yes."

"Oh I do, do I?" she managed to recover somewhat, pretending interest in the scrolls once more.

"Of course you do, after all you have a reputation for being exceedingly bright" he said putting his hands on the edge of her desk.

"And then what happens in this delusion of yours?" she scoffed still not looking at him.

He leaned in and lowered his voice, as if he were telling her a secret "Well then I think we'd have lots and lots of really excellent sex. Don't you agree, Granger?"

He heard an audible gulp. It sounded like victory.

When she spoke, her voice sounded shaky. "You don't even like me" she said.

"Oh don't I?" was his only verbal reply.

* * *

*My beloved beta and my beloved husband both responded with What the Expletive is Poohsticks? This make me sad for their childhoods. Read Winnie-ther-Pooh please, everyone. You are never too old. You throw sticks into a river on one side of a bridge and whosever comes out the other side first is the winner. Piglet is good at Pooh sticks.

A/N Sorry for the wait all but at least it was nice and long and contains implied shenanigans! I suffer from a balance disorder that flares on occassion and makes life very difficult particularly typing/writing in a moving vehicle. It's been squashing my spirit for over a week this time. Thanks again for all the lovely reviews. Thanks for reading, following and favouriting. It's such a boost to get emails from with reviews and follows.


	6. At Each Other's Throats

'This is so much better' was the only coherent thought in Draco's mind those first few minutes of kissing Granger. There were lots of fragments of thoughts like 'smooth' 'soft' 'lips' and 'warm' but the overwhelming feeling was that this was so much better. There were hands everywhere and two of them weren't his. In fact his weren't moving much at all. They were stuck to Granger's delectable arse. He'd tried moving them but they kept wandering back there so he'd given up the fight.

So whose hand's were moving? What was he backed up against? Some boisterous maneouvre knocked a precedent scroll onto his head which answered that question. This was a much more fun way to reorder the precedent scrolls. There was another thud and he turned his head to see that Cut-Out Cormac had thrown himself face forward onto the ground. Excellent, the little perv was getting a taste of his own medicine. Oh whatever that was Granger was doing to his earlobe could continue forever as far as he was concerned. And then it hit him, not like the scroll had but more like a voice from The Gods. It was Granger's hands and they were enthusiastically moving all over him! She'd just pinched him on the bum. This was so much better!

"Better than what?"

"Hmmm?" was Draco's cogent and witty response.

"You keep saying this is, ha, so much better" Granger explained as she kissed along his jaw "better than...mmm...what?"

'Anything' 'Everything' 'Life as I have known it until this point' were all answers that he managed to keep inside his mouth only because Granger didn't give it much of a chance to answer, she distracted his mouth with other activities. Thank Merlin for that. Apparently he'd been talking out loud without realising it again. This was bad. It was almost as bad as when he accidentally told Pansy he loved her the first time they kissed and that had been excruciating. He had to get some control back and quick before he bloody well proposed to Granger against his will. Her lips should be registered with the aurors as a dangerous magical weapon!

"Better than working on Susan's pay reform legislation" was the face-saving explanation he came up with as he pushed away from the scrolls and managed briefly to use his height, towering over her and giving himself some breathing space. Attack was the only form of defence he knew. He couldn't just turn into a gibbering teenager when she touched him. He had to make her gibber.

Oh no. Why had he stood up? Now she was on eye level with his tie and she had decided it was extraeneous to requirements. She was taking it off, slowly. He could feel his knees threatening to buckle. He was torn between wanting to allow himself to turn into a pile of mush and wanting to throw her up on her desk and lick her everywhere she would allow until she sighed his name. He'd call that Plan B. Apparently his body was going with turning to mush. 'Quickly, quickly make her do something else with her mouth before you make a complete tit of yourself' Draco mentally reprimanded himself.

"Don't you think this is better?" he asked in his best smug bastard tone while sliding his right hand up her side, grazing her breast and ending in her hair. He lowered his lips to her neck and kissed a teasing line up to the soft skin behind her ear. Success! He was rewarded with an audible groan and a cessation of her attempts to undress him.

"Filing. It's better than filing" Hermione said running one hand up his back and the other through his hair.

"I'll see your filing and I'll raise you, I'll raise you meetings" Draco responded intending to impress her with his use of Muggle expressions under duress. What actually seemed to impress her was his ability to pick her up simply by cupping her arse and standing up straight. Her squeak when he raised her feet from the ground was music to his ears. It only lasted a moment till he plonked her back down on her own desk but it was a Noise from the Dream and he'd achieved it in real life! He intended to get her horizontal under him if it was the last thing he did.

"This is better than 8am floo calls with the department heads" Hermione said as she impishly kicked off one shoe and ran her stockinged foot up the inside of his leg. This caused Draco to simply grab her shoulders and kiss her as hard as he could. They were back to the beginning again, this was how this whole much better portion of his life had started a few minutes ago and just as then he could feel himself surrendering to bliss. The urge to say Desperately Inappropriate Things bubbled up inside him again. She was so much better at this game than he was. She was a natural and all he wanted was to do was this for the rest of his life. He leaned forward slowly pushing her backwards onto her desk. With one arm behind her back and the other braced on the desk he whispered something close to the truth:

"Better than arguing."

Granger went completely stiff in his arms and struggled to get back upright.

"Draco! My work!" she protested pushing against his chest.

"Oh yes I forgot to sweep it dramatically onto the floor" said Draco making a move to do just that without letting her up completely.

"No! My work can't go on the floor" Hermione cried.

"I think if we stop to organise your scrolls the mood will be somewhat damaged Granger" Draco observed while trailing his fingers along her shoulder blade.

Hermione put her forehead to his and took a deep breath "I think this madness needs to be damaged don't you?"

'No!' 'Madness?' and 'Why would we stop the best thing that has ever happened to either of us?' were all things Draco could have said but he was too stunned by the thought that he was on his own in the bliss to say much of anything. Granger gently shuffled out from under him and off the desk. Draco let her. She hadn't felt it. That was why he was standing adrift in the middle of the floor and she was all the way over there fixing things on her desk. She hadn't felt it. He kept repeating it in his head because it was so incredible. A minute ago she'd been teasing his thigh with her foot for fuck's sake. Was he supposed to believe that she did that sort of thing willy nilly? He leaned back against the scrolls again and tried to get his body back to its normal state. That was where he was when he realised she'd never actually answered the question. Things had gone really well before she'd had the chance. Maybe she just thought that this wasn't appropriate office behaviour (and he agreed which just made it all the more hot as far as he was concerned). Perhaps she had felt it she just had workplace scruples.

"You never answered the question Granger"

"Technically you never asked a question Malfoy, you made a statement of intent" she said not meeting his gaze.

"Don't get all advocatey with me, you know what I meant."

"Advocatey? Is that a new word Malfoy? Should I alert the Wizarding Lexicography Department?"

"Why are you avoiding the answer and eye-contact Granger?"

Hermione sighed and looked him in the eye. "I'm trying to let you retract your statement. I understand what you are doing and let's just say I appreciate the gesture."

"The gesture? You'll have to explain Granger. I'm a bit slow at the moment what with having been soundly snogged by you only moments ago."

She winced. "You are trying to apologise. Consider it accepted. Let's drop this before it gets any more out of hand than it already has."

"Of the many things I want to do right now apologise isn't one of them. I have nothing to apologise for. This is called moving forwards Granger. Now are you accepting my invitation?"

"How on earth would a casual date between us resolve anything? It'll just make everything more messy. We have to work together and I'm not going on a pity-date with you to make you feel better for hurting me. It's a piss-poor idea Malfoy now drop it."

"Is that really who you think I am? Is that really what you think of yourself?"

She remained completely impassive giving him no clue to how he should proceed to get what he wanted. He'd just have to keep up this uncouth Gryffindor thing.

"I will not drop it. The invitation stands. I think you are going to take me up on it, sooner or later, of course I'd prefer sooner."

She looked alarmed at this statement of intention. "I expect you to behave professionally Malfoy."

Draco gave in to his desires and recreated one of his thought experiments. He crouched by the end of her desk, stroked her cheek and said gently: "isn't it a good job that I don't give a flying fuck about your expectations then Granger?" She looked at him with huge, shocked brown eyes and gulped again. Draco couldn't fully contain his genuine smile. He'd been right. The pure, noble, mighty Granger fancied him; profane, disgraced, dubious Draco Malfoy. She was going to fold like a cheap set of robes. This was going to be fun.

* * *

She alerted Ginny to the need for an emergency friend conference as soon as she managed to extricate herself from the office. She'd like to be able to say that she retreated gracefully while firmly restating her personal and professional boundaries to Malfoy. She'd like to be able to say that but she couldn't. She'd muttered something about needing the loo and run out of the office as if her arse were on fire. The same arse that Malfoy had been showing his profound appreciation for just moments earlier. Oh God! Oh Merlin! Oh bloody hell she'd pinched Malfoy's bum!

Luckily, and somewhat ironically, they had meetings with various department heads for most of the afternoon. Each time she caught Malfoy's eye across the conference table he'd either winked, raised an eyebrow and once passed her a note with only the word "worse" written on it. She'd spent most of the afternoon laughably flustered. She'd started the wrong presentation in one meeting informing a group of baffled Magical Transportation workers about changes in the legal status of certain migratory magical creatures outside Europe. When she finally found her feet and delivered the much more appropriate talk on the proposed licensing of portkeys she was fairly sure she'd left out vital points and all round lacked clarity because she was speaking at ninety miles an hour. This could not go on. She needed to talk to Ginny before her whirring brain dribbled out her ear.

Hermione flooed straight to Godric's Hollow from the main hall of the Ministry that evening. She had all but sprinted out of the last meeting grabbing her coat and bag from the office not listening as Cormac shouted angrily after her about her "betrayal". She felt like placing a small ad in the Daily Prophet asking if anyone had seen her dignity, she must had left it somewhere maybe someone would turn it in. Stumbling through the floo onto Ginny and Harry's hearthrug did little to fill her with a sense of confidence in her abilities. She blew her stray curls out of her eyes in frustration and called out to her friend.

"I'm in the kitchen pouring gins-and-tonic" came the heavenly reply "James, Albus and Harry are at The Burrow, we have an uninterrupted evening ahead of us so I thought we'd celebrate." When Gin discovered there was a Muggle drink that literally had her name on it she'd decided to embrace it wholeheartedly. Despite Hermione's many attempts to explain it was a Lady-Captain-of-the-Golf-Club drink Ginny's love for it did not falter. Now even Hermione was a fan. It had finally given her something in common with Great-aunt Marjorie at least.

"I'll have three" Hermione called.

"A three gin problem? Is it Malfoy?" said Ginny as she arrived into the living room with their drinks on a tray.

Hermione gaped and then managed to nod. "How did you know?" she whispered.

Guffaw was the only proper word to describe the noise Ginny made in response.

"He's the only one you care enough about to have a conference over, let alone three gins" Ginny stated matter-of-factly. "Did you do it on his desk?"

Hermione's G&T went down the wrong way. She spluttered and coughed so much that tears formed in her eyes. Ginny slapped her between the shoulder blades screeching "Oh bloody hell I was joking! Did you really?"

Coughing, Hermione shook her head violently. "We only kissed on the desk" she said when she was able to speak again, even though that wasn't the whole truth. She couldn't tell Ginny the rest until she'd had more than one drink. Although they had many years of shared friendship they'd never really talked about these things. Hermione's only serious relationship was with Ginny's brother and Ginny's was with Hermione's best friend. There would be a definite yuck factor in over-sharing on either side but Hermione felt that with Malfoy the same don't ask, don't tell policy might not apply. He wasn't related to either of them and he was undeniably attractive. She might have to use words to describe what had happened in the office earlier. There would be sentences with verbs in them...and subjects and objects. Oh God! She took a fortifying sip of her drink.

Her suspicions were confirmed when Ginny squealed and settled herself into a comfortable position with her feet crossed under her on the couch.

"Tell me everything" Gin commanded and Hermione looked at her friend's gleeful face and finally found the part of herself that was excited about this turn of events, she went so far as to allow herself a grin.

* * *

"So" said Ginny gesticulating with her glass after several gins-and-tonic and many descriptive sentences containing various parts of speech "a man you've been having filthy dreams about non-stop for weeks has asked you out followed by a sensational snogging session which used almost every flat surface in your shared office and your response is to turn him down flat and think there is a crisis. Are you sure you are as bright as you're given credit for? Why are you here? Why aren't you off shagging Malfoy?"

"Ginny!"

"What? It's a legitimate question! He does nothing for me beyond activating an urge to jinx him with a case of the tickles to see if he can come down off that high horse but he obviously floats your boat. So my question, and I think I speak for Malfoy too here, what's holding you back Hermione-of-my-heart?"

"But it's ridiculous!"

"Is it now?"

"He's Draco Malfoy!"

"Which seems to appeal to you."

"We work together" even on her fourth gin Hermione knew better than to baldly confirm her appreciation for his appeal to Ginny.

"All the more opportunity."

"All the more complicated you mean."

"Why does it have to be complicated?"

Hermione snorted tipsily. "I'm hardly the type of woman he'd take home to his mother!"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

Hermione looked at Ginny. She didn't appear to be joking. It looked like she really thought that was a legitimate question.

"He's not serious about me. He's just trying to sort out his fuck-up. He doesn't like it when we are fighting. He wants his ally back and he thinks this will work."

"Really? That's very common of course. The number of aticles of WitchWeekly devoted to what to do when a man snogs you silly for political reasons! It's a plague sweeping the nation!" Hermione laughed at Ginny's exaggeration but shook her head to show she wasn't convinced of her own folly. "Even if that were true may I point out you also hate it when you argue and according to both of you the snogging is a big improvement."

"But it could't go anywhere. It'd just end in a mess."

"Is that the problem? You want it to go somewhere?"

"No, of course not!"

Ginny leaned across the couch and took Hermione's G&T and settled it on the coffee table. She put a hand gently on her knee. "It's ok if you do, you know that don't you. In fact I'd be relieved."

"Relieved?"

"For the last few years I've been watching you date men who are boorish, boring and just rubbish matches for you. I can only imagine that if they can't make you laugh the sex must have been boring as hell. I know Harry and Ron have been winding you up about this and I have more to say on that subject too but this is me talking, your best female friend and I have to say I don't understand it any more than the boys do. Why are you settling for men who can only raise a polite smile? Don't you want something more? Malfoy said-"

"I don't want to hear it" Hermione interrupted. "I've heard more than enough of his opinions on my love-life thank you very much."

"Listen to me. His opinions on your love-life seem worth hearing at the moment as he's starring in it! I'm actually impressed that Malfoy had the balls to do it. He made a convincing argument that you were too intimidating for all but the most self-important prats to ask out because you're so gorgeous and intelligent and successful. So either he found some courage somewhere or he's now at peace with the fact that he too, is a self- important prat. Either way it's personal growth."

"He thinks I'm gorgeous?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

"And successful and intelligent and there was something about being kind to small animals and old people too. It almost sounded like he appreciated you. You have done worse. He's a good-looking arse but that's what you like, apparently." She ploughed on over Hermione's protestations. "Look at your record: it is. But point is it's not school anymore. It's not the war anymore. He's only an arse now. He's not the enemy. It's ok if you want it to be serious. Do you?"

"I don't know! Do I? I'm so confused it's ridiculous!"

"You're right, let's ignore the Boggart in the room. No more serious talk." Ginny paused to think for a moment and then leapt up to get a quill and parchment. "Let's make a list of places that two anonymous people, could be anyone, could snog in The Ministry. Number one - the parchment cupboard."

"Why would we need a list of snogging spots at work Ginny?" said Hermione in a warning tone.

"Because you are going to resolve this crisis the Hermione Granger way, with research!"

* * *

A/N You know all of my other work is distinctly PG with swearing. It's not just Hermione who gets the collywobbles at the thought of having to describe things with nouns. I hope this was ok and not vomit-inducing. I tried my best but even this sort of tame smut is difficult to write on the bus where people might read over your shoulder (yes I'm typing about you - Lady who read my work this morning saw the word Malfoy and snorted - may your umbrella turn inside out in a strong wind!)

Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favourited and reviewed the last chapter, I particularly want to thank those who reassured me that they had heard of Poohsticks (hurrah!) and those who have reviewed every chapter. I know every writer says this but they really are just fantastic to get. I love them all, even the ones that question my sanity. In an unprecedented move I've already started the next chapter and sort of know what I want to happen in it and everything, now to see if the characters will cooperate.


	7. At the Leaky Cauldron

The Leaky was heaving and it was almost impossible to hear anyone while the band was on but some mind-numbing noise was exactly what Hermione needed tonight. She could easily believe that things had become so tangled. She'd known it would happen. It was the best case scenario really and she and Malfoy had walked right into it and it was more her fault because she'd known the consequences. She had only herself to blame so a night on a very loud dancefloor sounded just about perfect right now.

Whenever she went dancing like this she thought of all the nights out she, Harry and Ron never had as teenagers, too busy saving the bloody world. They'd never had a real chance to be reckless. First there was the war; both winning it and surviving it, and then there was the press and the need to rebuild their whole society from the ground-up which stopped them from behaving badly. They had all this responsibility from so young, it was amazing none of them had gone completely off the rails, yet. It was nights like this, when she was thinking like this, that she wished both Voldemort and Dumbledore had lived longer, long enough for her to knee both of them firmly in the balls. The War, it was the gift that kept on giving.

Susan, herself and some of Susan's female colleagues from Legislative Prep were dancing together. The only one she really knew well was Susan and that was just how Hermione wanted things tonight. Of course she still had to carry the weight of her reputation and she was sure more than one of group was mentally commenting on the fact that they were dancing with Hermione Granger but she couldn't control that so she tried not to think about it. Susan had caught her eye with a look of concern earlier but Hermione shrugged it off. She would be a good person to confide in but ignoring the hippogriff in the room was tonight's plan and possibly get immensely drunk. Yes, that sounded like quite a good plan.

Plans. You couldn't trust them. Plans got you into all sorts of trouble. The plan had been to do research, to find out, through experiment, what it was she wanted from Draco and what it was he thought he was trying to achieve. Well what happened when you didn't like what you found out? What happened when you were left with two people and a huge mess after your research was done? Plans were stupid when it came to your heart but she'd known that before hadn't she? Lesson insufficiently learned. Now the only plan she had was to drink until she could no longer spell insufficient.

_*Thud* *Bump* _

_"Miss me then Granger?" asked Draco as he was shoved against the wall of the parchment cupboard. _

_"Desperately" Hermione responded with obvious sarcasm as she nuzzled his collar. _

_"Ah, trying to cover your troubled feelings with snark? You can't fool me that way. I am the former king of that country. You did miss me. You are desperate." _

_"The fact that we've been here less than a minute and you already have your hand up my skirt would suggest you are the desperate one." _

_There was no talking for a few minutes as they each tried to win the battle of indifference by snogging the faces off each other. Their logic may have been flawed but the passion with which they each tried to prove their point was undeniable. This stalemate lasted until Granger broke off and did that thing to his earlobe again. Draco whimpered, in a manly way, and Hermione smirked victoriously. _

_"What would your mother say if she could see you now?" _

_Draco looked at her as if she'd just farted. "I don't really want to talk about mother just now Granger." _

_She raked a hand through his hair persuasively. "Why not? It's totally normal. I ask you how your lunch went every Thursday afternoon." _

_"Not last Thursday" said Draco, he was clearly still pissed off about it too. _

_"Last Thursday we weren't friends. Now we are." _

_"Friends? That's what we are is it?" he said before dragging the tip of his nose up the column of her throat. _

_"Mneh!" was the high-pitched noise Hermione made. Draco mentally added it to his collection._

_She placed an open mouthed kiss on his slightly stubbly cheek to give her time to gather her wits (and also because it was just there and she wanted to taste it). "I'm hardly on her pre-approved list of Witches You May Consort With." _

_Draco backed away from her a whole inch and a half. He looked at her, trying to work out what she was really asking. He considered telling her the truth - that she had been at the very top of his mother's list for over a year, that Narcissa Malfoy would be comically delighted with this turn of events, she might even smile - the word "friends" made him doubt the reception of that little nugget. She still hadn't agreed to go out with him. Caution was advised. _

_"She'd think we were being very, very naughty Granger" he said with a smirk while his thumb grazed the arc of her breast. _

_Something he wasn't quite able to identify appeared on Hermione's face, just for a moment, then she grinned, wiggled closer to him and resumed the snogfest._

Draco was annoyed, in fact he was royally pissed off. He looked at her out there enjoying herself on the dancefloor. He was aware that staring at her over the rim of his pint glass was unlikely to cause her any distress at all but he was finding it next to impossible to look away. He wished his glare could make her feel just a little bit of his tumult but all evidence to the contrary. There she was, in all her glory, shaking that delectable arse for all the world to see as if she weren't a soul-sucking banshee.

He really had never thought heartless was a word he'd be using to describe Hermione Granger but it was now his first choice of adjective for her. It had always seemed to him that if it wasn't for the size of her brain she'd be known as a walking bleeding heart with ridiculous hair. It turned out that she didn't have a heart at all, or if she did he had no place in it, no way to get in. It was closed to him because of things he'd done when he was basically a child. Of course what she'd done as a child was save the world. He had done terrible things and maybe this was what justice felt like. Perhaps all the counselling, community service and probation weren't the real justice at all. They were just the prelude to this: the knowledge that if you watched her be tortured and did nothing to stop it you weren't allowed get the girl in the end.

No-one would blame her. There were even parts of him that didn't, that sort of forgiveness was improbable to say the least. He certainly wasn't capable of it. What really galled him was they way he'd been idiotic enough to think it was really an option. Making him think he was more than just a roll in the hay with the dark side was cruel of her, on the other hand he wasn't at all sure he would prefer to go through the whole of life without the few days where he'd believed being with Hermione Granger was an option. Yes he knew that was contradictory she was cruel for giving him something he refused to give back? Well he was in a contradictory mood and probably would be forever now. And that was her fault too.

_"Do you remember when doddery old Carlton first showed us these?" he asked holding the back of her Wizengamot robes as she shrugged them off. _

_"Vividly. I was sure sticking my locker in the darkest corner of the Robing Room was a deliberate insult to the Muggleborn until I noticed yours was right beside mine." _

_"Yes, he was the first person we met who hated us both equally and all because we had our original knees and could still bend over to tie our own shoes in the morning." _

_Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. _

_"Well I could in theory, obviously Dinko does the actual tying. He'd be dreadfully offended if I did it myself." _

_Hermione laughed and Draco briefly thought that perhaps that was what it sounded like when fairies played those water harp thingys near woodland pools. _

_"Lord knows we can't offend Dinko! Life wouldn't be worth living!" Granger said as she hung up her robes and closed the mahogany door of her appointed locker. She liked to tease him about his relationship with his only House-Elf once she realised that far from being oppressed Dinko was paid and also ruled Master Draco's domestic life with a rod of iron. Draco was never allowed buy his own clothes for example. If he did they would mysteriously disappear in the wash never to be seen again. The terrible slicked back hair had been Malfoy's teenage rebellion against the elf, and was only tolerated in the school term Hermione had found out to her great amusement. _

_"I don't know. I can think of a few things worth living for even if Dinko were in a huff" Malfoy said softly skimming her cheek with his knuckle. She shivered in response and briefly swayed into him before she stepped back holding her arms out to indicate that she was ready to help him with his robes. He allowed her to break the moment. He could still hear some of the other advocates shuffling round in the vast chamber. _

_"I remember you sighing and saying "Looks like we'll just have to cooperate Malfoy." you were paranoid that you'd put your cap on backwards in the dark and look ridiculous for your advocate debut or some such." _

_"I should think after all Dinko's years of training you would appreciate the importance of sartorial elegance Malfoy" she said as she took the full weight of his robes from his shoulders. _

_"Oh I know all about it I was just surprised you'd even heard of the concept. I'd seen no evidence of it up till then" he said taking his robes and hanging them in his adjacent locker_

_"You total git!" she replied slapping him in the shoulder with his Wizengamot cap. _

_Draco grinned and grabbed her wrist. "There are advantages to being given life-time lockers in the darkest, most remote corner of the chamber you know Granger, advantages we didn't think of at the time." He walked her back towards the wall as he said it, even further into the shadows. _

_When the first kiss broke apart and he was trailing his lips along her hair line he could have sworn she said something about not having the Wizengamot Robing Room on her list but that didn't make any sense so he took it as a sign her brain was fogged with lust. Excellent. He started to undo the buttons of her blouse. _

_"What do you think you are doing Advocate Malfoy?" she asked running her fingers through his soft, product-free hair. _

_"All of this cooperative disrobing has given me some ideas Advocate Granger." He continued unbuttoning _

_"I think I can guess what kind of ideas those are." _

_"I'm sure you can, you're very bright." She had yet to stop him and he had reached the last two buttons. He pulled the blouse out of her waistband and suddenly it was open. She stiffened perceptibly as he looked at her. The gloom didn't allow him to see all the detail he wanted to. She was wearing a cream lace top beneath her blouse. It presented her gorgeous cleavage like the precious treasure it was. He reached out to touch it. _

_"Malfoy" she said in a softly reproving tone as she tried to cover herself. She was probably more covered than she would be in a cocktail dress but this felt much more exposed._

_"Don't" he pleaded, stopping her hands. She allowed him to put her hands back down by her sides. He traced a finger along the top of the lace. They both stopped breathing for a moment. She exhaled slowly, turning her head away from him. He pulled her chin back to face him and looked straight into her eyes "You are so beautiful Hermione Granger."_

_"In the dark maybe" she said attempting humour but only succeeding in sounding bitter. _

_"Beautiful everywhere. Beautiful here" he said running his hand up to the nape of her neck and twinning his fingers into hair beneath her bun "and here" he said kissing her closed eyelids "and here" he said his other hand toying with the lace of her camisole "and especially here" he kissed her lips with such tenderness that for a moment she believed him, or at least believed he meant it._

_She pulled away. This was dangerous. "Draco" she said in a warning voice "you don't have to lie to me. It's just me...Granger" _

_It was his turn to recoil. "As you well know Granger I rarely do things because I have to." _

_"Except work with me." It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself._

_He stepped away from her as if he'd been slapped. He straightened his jacket. "As usual Advocate Granger you cut to the heart of the matter. I'll see you back at the office." Just as he reached the end of their row of lockers he turned back to her. He was completely back-lit, she couldn't make out his expression at all just a silver halo at his blond head. "I'd respectfully remind the court that I am not the one who wants to this thing to stay in the shadows."_

Hermione pushed her way towards the bar. It was crowded because the band was taking a break and the dancefloor had all but emptied. She was hot and wanted water followed by alcohol. She was fairly sure her hair was sticking to her face in an unattractive manner. The dancing was working, she'd been able to stop thinking about Draco for the first time in a week. She wasn't thinking about anything and it felt good. She stood and pushed and panted lost in her own little world.

"Hermione Granger isn't it?" said a voice near her head. She turned to look and a tall, vaguely familiar brown-haired man. He had a deep voice and was decidedly easy on the eye.

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry have we met?"

"Sort of. Michael Donovan, Department of Magical Transportation, you gave us a talk last week, well half of two talks actually" he grinned at her. He had one dimple. This was ridiculous he looked like the kind of attractive attainable man from a clothing catalogue, any moment now he would point into the distance or look at his watch. He was a man made by the Gods to romp on a beach with a golden retriever.

"Yes sorry about that, very embarrassing, too many meetings I think I had presentationitis."

"What's that?"

"It's a disease I just made up to cover up the fact that I was ridiculously unprofessional in a meeting with you" she said with a smile.

"There's a Muggle invention that might help with that you know" he informed her and then Hermione stood there in growing horror as he explained Powerpoint to her. Not only did he explain the concept but he went on to tell her, slide by slide, about a presentation he'd given to his colleagues about expansions to the Floo Network in Eastern Europe. It was the most boring thing she'd ever heard and she'd survived Professor Binns. She stood there looking at the pretty, pretty man and thinking about what she would wear to work the following week, whether she should finally get a new cat, what to get her Dad for his birthday he usually wanted golf things but she always tried to persuade him to be more adventurous. Dimple boy was gesticulating so she tuned back in

"...so the name of each Floo hub came flying in from the left and I had each one make the noise of broom zooming by... "

He was still talking about the bloody presentation! What a waste of a good looking man. He was more boring than...than...and in that moment Hermione realised that she had no idea which of her erstwhile romantic partners were the most boring because she never really listened to any of them. She'd never seen the point, they had no interest in anything she had to say. Why try to converse with someone who just wanted to hear themselves talk? It was easier just to look at them. Urgh she was a horrible shallow person. No wonder everyone was getting at her about this. She was treating men like pieces of meat. Admittedly they weren't treating her much better, it's not like she was running around breaking hearts. The thought made her want to vomit. Just as she could see the bar and therefore the end of this Powerpoint-by-proxy torture a group of blokes from the project approached and curse them all to Hades Malfoy was among them.

"Oi Donovan" called one of them "we've got a pool tournament in the offing, you want in?" Who was he even talking to? Oh Boring-but-Pretty Boy was called Donovan apparently.

"I'm a little busy here Ross" he replied with a wink to Hermione. Her stomach made a threatening gurgle at the sight. Malfoy stood there at the back of the group of men, glaring at her. Yes she was definitely going to be sick. She felt as if she were stewing in misery, it was actually making her fidget. The pool players moved off with a few teasing comments to them both but Malfoy lingered.

"Where were we? Oh yes I was going to tell you all about computers."

"Lucky you Granger" said Malfoy in a drawl that reminded her of school. It was his nasty voice. "You've managed to find someone of your usual standard" he commented as he pushed past her.

Donovan looked between them briefly but as it wasn't about him he lost interest quickly. He launched into his explanation of computing, getting several basic points completely wrong of course, Hermione knew there were no live mice involved. Once Malfoy was out of ear shot, Hermione ordered her drinks, a double firewhiskey and a pint of water. Donovan talked over all of this interaction and she grew more and more annoyed at his presumption. When he finally paused for breath she laid a hand on his arm "Look" she started in a conciliatory tone "I'm here to dance with my friends tonight. I don't mean to be rude but I really want to get back to them, I'm sure I'll see you around."

"But I haven't finished telling you about computers" he said with what he clearly thought was a winning smile. Even just a month ago she would have fallen for it but now she was just exhausted by the meaninglessness of it. The two seconds when Malfoy had insulted her were the best bits of this alleged conversation. She sighed and decided to just say what she really thought.

"I know about computers. I own three. I'm famously Muggleborn, you can look me up. There are many badly written books on the topic of my early muggle life. I might have mentioned this earlier if you'd needed any response whatsoever but you were happy just to bore me silly. Next time you are trying to chat a woman up you might try listening to her for a change."

"Frigid bitch!" she heard him say as she walked away.

Bitch maybe, she thought to herself, frigid not on your nelly.

_The conference room was stuffy. It always happened in the late afternoons due to the lack of actual air-conditioning, the air movement charms seem to flag post meridian and due to the Byzantine bureaucracy of the place no-one knew whose job it was to recast them. The meeting was long and Susan had been talking for ages. Hermione tried to pay attention but kept being distracted by the looseness of Draco's tie. She wanted to reach over and take it off him, or possibly fix it. She had actually had to sit on her hands to prevent herself from doing it. He was scowling down at his parchment. He'd been scowling a lot since The Episode in the Robing Room. So part of her wanted to rip his tie off, lick his neck and remove that scowl the old-fashioned way while another part wanted to fix it, run a hand through his hair, give him a hug and make him a good hot meal. She was not entirely sure which impulse was the more disturbing at this stage. His hair was messy. That was very unusual. She needed some kind of exclusive contact between them to reassure her that he was alright, that everything would be fine and things between them were not irretrievably broken. _

_That was why she'd started trying to play footsie with him under the table. She wanted him to look up so she could mouth her question. It started out almost like school-child mischief, a swipe at his shins. When he made no response at all she changed the game. Once again she slipped her foot out of her shoe and ran it up his leg. On her second pass she found the hem of his trouser leg and her stockinged toes met his skin. Draco didn't satisfy her need for connection by looking up but he did accommodate her, stretching out his legs towards her, spreading his knees. She pushed and pointed her foot all the way to his knee, stroking the line of his calf with her big toe but she got tangled in material. _

_He caught her foot between his knees when she tried again. When she felt his touch she struggled not to squirm in her seat. Draco Malfoy was giving her a foot massage in the middle of an interdepartmental meeting. He was right; she was a naughty girl that his mother would not approve of, she was thrilled with the concept. He stroked the arch of her foot very delicately. She almost wasn't sure he was touching her at all but the electricity up her spine said he was. He held on gently, his fingers on top and his thumb exploring the ball, sole and toes. Hermione had never realised her foot was an errogenous zone before but she was a puddle of monosyllabic want and he hadn't touched her anywhere above the ankle yet._

_"Are you alright Hermione you look a bit flushed?" said Amanda on her left. _

_Hermione motioned for a glass of water and whispered "Just a little warm" in response. _

_"Be careful not to overheat Granger" said Draco as he ran his hand teasingly up her leg under the table. She coughed into her water glass. Oh he was not getting away with that. She scooted her chair in a little further to the table and took up her quill, making notes. She also slid her foot forward to connect with what she thought was Draco's upper thigh. By the squeak he made she was more on target than she'd thought. Yes! She gently moved he foot back and forth exploring this interesting development. "Water Draco?" she said pouring him a glass with a look of total innocence on her face. She couldn't believe her own boldness. _

_He looked at her. Now it seemed he was the one having trouble not jumping out of his seat to remove her clothes. He made a face similar to when he really tried to control his_ _temper. They were stuck just looking at each other. She moved her foot again glorying in the expression on his face. There was the connection she'd needed. _

_Everyone around them got up and shuffled papers, chatting about their evening plans. It seemed the meeting was over. Hermione and Draco stayed seated. She felt him run his nails down her calf before his hand disappeared, she mapped his inner thigh with her toes before she disentangled herself and found her shoe. _

_They got all the way to their own office before it started properly. As soon as the frosted glass door with both their names on it closed behind them Draco pointed his wand and wordlessly lowered the blinds all round their office. They fell on each other like starving people, bouncing off the walls and furniture in an attempt to get closer together. _

_"You little vixen ." _

_"You looked like you weren't enjoying the meeting. I thought I'd cheer you up. Didn't you like it? It seemed like you liked it." _

_"I have a suggestion" said Draco seriously "let's stop talking." _

_"What?" _

_"It just seems to end in one of us storming off when we do. Let's not talk this time." Hermione thought for a moment and then nodded. Draco grinned. His tie was finally removed and his neck thoroughly kissed. Hermione's hair was out of it's bun and spilling down her back with Draco's fingers nested within. The office was filled with interesting noises and the protesting shouts of Cut-Out Cormac. The vow of silence had a side effect neither advocate had foreseen. Quickly, very quickly, the devouring nature of the encounter changed to something much more tender but retaining all of its intensity. _

_They had only their bodies to express their feelings and it seemed that their bodies had more courage than their brains and great deal more good sense. _

_When Hermione moved to unbutton Draco's shirt he gently stopped her, intertwined their fingers and led her out of the office. He continued to hold her hand even when they were in the corridors, there were fewer people around at this time but several people saw them. They crossed the main hall to the Floo where Draco gave his address, still holding her hand tightly, and whisked them both away through the flames._

There was something satisfying about the explosion of one's opponents balls when you knocked them into a pocket point. The only problem Draco could see was that Wizarding Pool wasn't sufficiently loud or destructive. It could do with having a Weasley version, that would definitely have bigger explosions. He could really do with hexing the crap out of something to release some of his anger. Anger was more acceptable than misery and those seemed the only alternatives open to him at the moment. Thank Merlin he had suggested silence, if he hadn't misery would be the only option. Thank Merlin she didn't know exactly how much he'd enjoyed that night. Inside his head he'd been chanting about how amazing it was, how perfectly her body fit to his and how this was, without any shadow of a doubt, the best sex he'd ever had. Draco very much suspected that had he allowed either of them to speak he would have said it all out loud, and worse he would have told her what he'd guessed before but was now certain of: he was in love with her.

Pool was a good compromise. He looked like he was enjoying his night out but some of the time he still had a legitimate reason to look towards the dancefloor. She was still shaking her thing out there but much more erratically. He'd seen her head to the bar a few times and on each occasion there had been a fist of lead in his stomach at the idea that she was going to leave with that Computer Tosser but she seemed more focused on getting impressively pissed. She never usually did that, not even at New Ministry functions where it was practically a prerequisite. When Draco took his next shot that faced the dancefloor, with a satisfying purple explosion of smoke when it was successful, he could see her stumbling onto Amanda. He was torn between letting her make a spectacle of herself, she deserved no less, telling Susan to send her home and going and manfully claiming her from the dancefloor. She would probably hex his bollocks off though. She'd made it painfully clear he had no claim on her.

His decision was made for him with the arrival of The Oiks from the office. Whatever Granger had done he didn't want her losing face. His vain hope that they wouldn't spot her was extinguished when he saw the Muggleborn one taking photos of her with his phone. There was nothing for it, he forfeited his game and pushed out into the dancing crush to get her, sending a casual stinging jinx at The Oik with The Phone. There were just too many people in this bloody place. It took him far too long to even get within shouting distance of her. Just as he was about to reach out and touch her, for the first time since that night there was a loud crack and there, right in front of Hermione, The Weasel appeared. From his position Draco could only see Hermione's face, Weasel had his broad back to him. When she saw her ex her face lit up, as if she'd just been told it was Christmas and Founder's Day at the same time.

"Ron! You came for me?" she shouted jumping into his arms, her eyes closed tight.

"Course" was the erudite observation from Weasley.

Draco stood and scowled. He'd been an idiot to trust Potter and Mini-Weasel that there was nothing between them. Seriously who with any sense broke up with Granger without wanting her back? What happened next astonished him. Hermione began to cry; huge, shoulder heaving sobs came out of her tiny frame and she still didn't open her eyes. The Weasel stroked her hair and then, when the wailing only increased, picked her up bridal style and apparated them away.

Draco stood on the heaving dancefloor as the band played some song about satisfaction thinking how ironic life could be. He'd spent his youth telling Weasel he had nothing of any value and it turned out he had the only thing Draco had ever been denied: Hermione Granger's heart.

* * *

A/N: I feel evil for leaving it there but after over 5000 I hope you'll forgive me for the wait between updates. Once again so much thanks to everyone who has put this on alert, favourited it, left a review (I love you most of all), recommended it to others and read it at all. I tried to be a bit more imaginative with my I-can't-write-smut-on-the-bus limitation this chapter I hope it works at all. Thanks again for reading. I really appreciate it!


	8. At Cross Purposes

Hermione awoke with a start from another disturbing dream. It was a recurring one where Death Eaters found her parents and tortured them in front of her. This time they made Draco do it. She screamed and screamed for them to stop, recognising even in her dream that Draco was being tortured too. Waking up was a relief, until the hangover hit and then moments later her situation hit too.

"Mornin'. There's tea there for you" Verity said as she sat perched on the end of Hermione's bed with her own cup and the morning paper. "Need a potion?"

Hermione shook her head, half as a test to see how bad the headache was and half because she still preferred to take some paracetamol over swallowing a terrible tasting potion when she was hungover. Verity was a comforting sight . Without her there for context Hermione wouldn't know where she was. Ron and Verity hadn't been living together long and their spare room was still very spare. It had white walls and no personal effects out of boxes to identify it. Apart from letting her know where she was Verity was just generally comforting, a rock of sense and as non-judgemental as the day was long. Her blonde hair was in a pixie cut that made her look like an oversize mischievous fairy and sitting with her legs curled under as she was; Hermione felt like asking her for three wishes. The first would be to turn back time to before she'd made such a dreadful mistake. She took comfort that it didn't seem she'd made it any worse. She was at Ron and Verity's, which meant the night hadn't ended as badly as it could have. She gingerly sipped her tea. It was perfect.

"Accio Paracetamol" she croaked after opening her beaded bag. The pills jumped into her hand and she swallowed them down with the tea. The placebo effect, and probably the tea, immediately made her feel a little less trollish. "How awful was I?"

"Tears, lots of tears" said Verity between tea sips. "You told us how much you loved us and Harry and Gin a lot and you were very insistent that you'd done a terrible, terrible thing and none of us would love you anymore, that sort of drunken nonsense."

Hermione groaned and covered her head with the duvet once more. Maybe if she hid here for the rest of time all of this would go away.

"You weren't too awful at all, not when you've played bouncer at as many Wheezes Christmas Parties as I have" Verity reassured in her matter-of-fact way. "Dean Thomas always tries to snog me, every year, without fail. If you didn't molest anyone you're doin' good as far as I'm concerned."

"Oh God!" said Hermione from under the bedclothes. To Verity it probably sounded like embarrassment but actually it was stomach churning relief that it didn't seem she had molested anyone, namely Malfoy.

"Do you think you could keep down some toast? I have to head to work soon, Angelina and me have Saturday this week cus the Cannons are playing later." Hermione nodded and felt a bit like her head would fall off. "Ok I'll get you some now. You should probably look at this too" Verity handed her The Prophet. "Sorry" she said with a grimace.

Hermione unfolded the paper to see the front page headline

GOLDEN DUO REUNITED! emblazoned above a huge wizarding photo of her crying in Ron's arms.

The Wizarding World can breath a sigh of relief over its pumpkin juice this morning as all is once again right with the world. Patrons of The Leaky Cauldron last night were lucky enough to witness first hand what we have all been waiting for: the reunion of Wizarding Entrepreneur and Decorated War Hero Ron Weasley (24) and Magical Advocate and Decorated War Heroine Hermione Granger (25). Miss Granger sprang into the arms of Mr Weasley in the middle of a crowded dancefloor. The couple were emotional and clearly eager for privacy, apparrating away from the venue just moments after the touching scene unfolded.

The lovebirds have both been romantically involved with others in the recent past. Ron Weasley has been publicly consorting with a staff member at his company while Hermione Granger has been seen with many Wizards-About-Town since the duo split five years ago. It seems clear from our pictures that they have found each other again and we look forward to the patter of little wizarding feet in the near future. Miss Granger, who has been the subject of recent wild rumours that she was conducting a clandestine affair with a certain notorious former Dark Wizard, was wearing her patented casual style mixing Muggle clothing and high street wizarding wear. She teamed an effortlessly elegant, black, sequin-covered, sleeveless boat neck top with wizarding dress trousers and daring wedge heels. The picture shows... (contd pages 2, 5, 6, 11 & 24)

Hermione stopped reading and ran to the bathroom down the hall to be copiously sick in the toilet. The Prophet was a difficult read at the best of times but flowery and inaccurate descriptions of her clothing were too much on a weak stomach. Verity found her sitting on the floor with her back against the bath and her head on her knees.

"I'm so sorry Hermione. We're so boring and settled that I was already in my pjs when Susan sent us the patronus. It was only half bloody ten on a Friday night too. I should have put my flippin' clothes on and gone and got you myself."

"Then we'd be looking at a headline that said 'Granger kidnapped from local nightspot by Weasley's Jealous Lover'. There's no cure for the bloody press" Ron commented, leaning against the bathroom door and looking at the two women with concern. "How's the head Hermione? You still the brightest witch of the age?"

"Don't think so, no" was her muffled reply. "I'm so sorry you two" she said lifting her head and trying not to cover them in tears again.

"Apologising for something that clearly isn't your fault? You channelling Harry this morning or something?" Ron asked while Verity cast a surreptitious teeth cleaning charm on their guest. "I made Mum's pancakes. Even better than toast to cure what ails you. Come on" he said pulling her up by the elbow.

Hermione allowed herself to be shuffled to the kitchen and sat at the table. She had missed Ron's weekend brunches in recent years and there was something reassuringly familiar about the spread on the table. This was better though, nowadays neither of them was likely to throw the milk jug at the wall before the meal was over. She ate and groaned as Verity and Ron read the whole article aloud, in funny voices with scathing commentary. She once again thanked any gods or powers out there that she and Ron had remained friends and that Verity was Verity because life without this seemed an awful prospect at the moment.

She was starting to feel human again as the meal finished. Maybe the world wasn't going to end. She could just continue as she had before, enjoying life enough but not too much, getting worthy things done, not becoming too involved with anyone. Verity shuffled around gathering her things, gave Hermione a hug and Ron a kiss before flooing to the shop. Ron poured them both more tea and looked at her for a long moment.

"Did you notice this?" Ron pointed to the photo on the front page. Just over Ron's shoulder she could see him, his chin dropping and then clamping shut again as the photo looped. Shit.

"Cannons match starts at three so you have my undivided attention till then. How about I beat you at chess while you tell me how you've made such a mess of things with The Ferret?"

* * *

Draco hadn't slept but instead had sat by the fire all night, thinking morose thoughts.

It sounded like a set-up for a joke: two colleagues who recently slept together walk into a bar...but he certainly didn't feel like laughing. If he looked up unattainable in the new Wizarding Dictionary he was fairly sure he'd see a picture of Hermione Granger, probably laughing, or possibly that fantastic shot from the front of this morning's Prophet. He'd been wrong to think she was heartless, it turned out she did have one, it was simply fully occupied. In pages and pages of gushing coverage all the mention he got was one dismissive clause in a sentence about her outfit. He supposed that was fairly apt, newspapers didn't do footnotes. That was where he would feature in one of her many biographies he was sure, or in an appendix titled 'People Other than Ron Weasley who were Unfortunate Enough to Fall In Love with Hermione Granger'. There had to be others out there. He couldn't be the only sap could he? Perhaps they could form a support group.

He knew that soon he would have to formulate a real plan, there had to be a way to move on, perhaps he should take an extended holiday and travel to some remote part of the world where no one had heard of her, or him for that matter? He was contemplating the relative merits of Peru and Botswana when Dinko appeared before him with a bottle of Pepper-Up Potion on a silver salver.

"Dinko is thinking you need a potion Master Draco. You is seeming under-the-weather this morning" said the elf pouring the potion into a small oddly shaped glass. Draco presumed it was appropriate for morning potion consumption by some arcane wizarding etiquette only Dinko and his mother knew about anymore. Draco drank obediently. He knew better than to argue with his house-elf.

"Master Draco is dishevelled" said Dinko while pointedly tidying Draco's shoes.

"I don't particularly feel like being shevelled today Dinko. There doesn't seem to be a lot of point as I plan to sit here and wallow."

Dinko actually stopped what he was doing and simply stared at his employer severely for speaking such blasphemy. The elf's eye was then caught by the newspaper in Draco's hand and Dinko's ears flopped forward in sympathy.

"Did Master Draco say something bad about Missis Hermione's hair again?"

"No, not this time Dinko. This time I didn't say anything at all."

"Mistress Narcissa is wishing to see you for afternoon tea Master Draco."

"Oh Gods, did she say she wished to or would like to?"

"Wishing to Master" said Dinko gently.

"Well shit" said Draco with little real passion. They both knew "I wish to" was an order in Narcissa-speak and that shevelled was something Draco would most certainly have to become.

* * *

It had taken several moves and a few nicely ambiguous questions for Ron to get Hermione to spill the whole sorry tale. Harry might be the auror but Ron could manage this interrogation on his own, he was better off without Harry, who seemed to have been infected with Foot in Mouth Disease recently. At first Hermione had merely hinted at some snogging but once Ron didn't seem to be thoroughly appalled or ready to hex anyone she opened up more. Ron kept his attention focused on the chess board, freeing Hermione up from any oppressive eye contact while she confessed all. It was a trick he'd learned from his Dad who always managed to get what was bothering you out in the open by tinkering with some Muggle device while you told him about your problems. It worked much better than Molly's focused concern. Hermione told Ron all about her and Draco: how she had refused his repeated requests for a date, how they had argued nearly all the time still and finally how she had awoken after they slept together, realised this was very serious indeed and fled as quickly as her wand could apparrate her. She had landed on her bum beside her own bed with no shoes or underwear. Ron managed to hide his smirk at the mental image of his fearless friend being so totally flustered by anyone.

Basically she'd behaved as if sex with Malfoy was her personal boggart and Ron could easily understand why she'd been on the receiving end of his frostiest cold shoulder since. Now she was over-analysing in her best Hermione manner, tying herself up in knots looking for a more complex explanation of what was clear, obvious and straightforward: Malfoy wanted to go out with her and she'd rejected him pretty strongly, the poor sod. If Ron could tell his 17 year-old self that one day he'd be feeling sorry for Malfoy because Hermione wouldn't admit her feelings for the git he was sure past-him would explode with indignation. He took a sip of tea, moved a chess piece and marvelled a bit at how gloriously unexpected life was sometimes. It looked like Hermione was winding up, better start paying attention.

"I don't know why he did any of it! That's the most frustrating part!" Well if she were truly honest with herself the most frustrating part had been not touching him all the time for the last week but not understanding his motivation was a close second. "I checked him for a love-potion or compulsion spell a couple of days after we first kissed" she said as if that were a normal thing to suspect after a good snog. "It was all negative, he hasn't been bewitched or anything."

Ron raised an eyebrow at her.

"So what is he playing at? There must be something, he was full of how my love-life was distracting him from world domination a few weeks ago and gossiping with you and Harry about my awful taste in men, there is something going on. I should never have let it get anywhere near this far. I can't understand why he would want it to go this far! I knew it was a huge mistake but Ginny persuaded me it would be just a bit of fun and now we are barely able to work together. It's a disaster and it's all my fault because I knew it would end like this!" There were tears in her eyes once again.

"You're missing the really obvious answer Hermione, do you know that? Even Harry could see it" said Ron, patting her hand while he waited for her to make her move.

"How?" she looked genuinely perplexed as one of her pawns was massacred by Ron's rook. "What am I missing?"

"You are really gonna kick yourself. It'll be fun to watch."

There was a long silence. The moves she made during showed that she must be thinking hard, even Hermione wasn't this bad at chess. He'd have to help her out. Ron was well aware that being the last to know you were falling for someone was a pretty humiliating experience.

"Got it yet?"

"Not unless you think he's doing it for a bet or something, no."

"Exactly when did it go wrong Hermione? "

"After we slept together" she said in an unsteady voice "but it was already rocky, we kept arguing, about him asking me out, about his Mum, about the ridiculous elaborate compliments." This last comment was made with a large eye-roll which confused Ron.

"Hang on what compliments?"

"Well he keeps, kept, using lines on me, telling me I'm beautiful and that sort of thing. I told him he needn't but that didn't go well."

"Yeah sounds dreadful, however did you cope?" said Ron with a grin but when he looked up Hermione looked like she wanted to crawl out of her skin with discomfort. "Why shouldn't he say that? It's true."

Hermione's reaction was to make a strangled sort of squealing sound and point at him wordlessly with her mouth open. She nearly upset the chess board.

"What?" they were back to their usual dynamic at least, Hermione had had a revelation and Ron was totally lost.

"You never said that I was beautiful! Not once! Ever!" she was shouting now and her gestures were only going to get bigger. For the sake of the chess set this had to be nipped in the bud.

"That would be because I was a bloody idiot!" Ron shouted.

"What?" she shouted back but Ron could see he'd taken the wind out of her sails.

He wanted to get this right. It was important and he could feel the air charged with a huge potential for him to fuck this up completely. It was like being back in the tent. Deep breath. "This is going to sound like total bollocks but I never said that because I thought you knew." He cast her his best pleading glance, the Wounded Puppy look Gin called it. This was a time for eye-contact.

"It sounds like bollocks because it is bollocks Ron" Hermione hissed.

"It honestly isn't Hermione. You remember what a daft git I was about all this stuff. You're so brilliant and you always knew everything before me. Why would I tell you something you should know from looking in the mirror? You are beautiful. It's hardly advanced arithmancy. If I ever thought about it at all I would've dismissed as being as stupid as you telling me I had red hair or something. I thought telling you things you didn't know was important, like that I loved you or that you are a great cook."

Hermione didn't just have tears in her eyes now, they were running down her face.

"And just to be absolutely clear: you are beautiful and I have always known it, even before I noticed you were a girl." When he got no response Ron stood and pulled her out of her armchair into a bear hug. "Shit, I'm really sorry. I know it's not much consolation but I'm much better at that sort of stuff now. Verity made it very clear that if I wanted to keep her as a girlfriend I'd have to get better at appreciating her."

Never one for prolonged displays of affection (except when tipsy, then she was all sorts of clingy) Hermione wriggled out of his grip and wiped her tears away roughly. Her gaze was still determinedly directed at the carpet.

"Why did you think you weren't beautiful Hermione?" Ron was gentle with his question, he really wanted an answer. "It can't just be because I never said."

Hermione didn't really have a proper answer for him. Her mind flashed through images from school: Draco and the other Slytherins taunting her about her teeth and hair, Lavender and Parvati excluding her from make-up conversations in the dorms, never having a date for Hogsmeade weekends, her parents and friends always praising her brains. There was no one event. She knew she wasn't the sort of girl or woman that men crossed rooms to talk to, maybe that was why she liked it so much when some bloke did chat her up. It hadn't mattered to her if he were a ridiculous prat, some unattractive, deprived part of her ego just loved the fact that he was there at all.

She was quiet for a long time while these thoughts buzzed around her huge brain. Ron wasn't sure if she was just thinking or he was getting the silent treatment. He bloody hated the silent treatment.

"He fancies you Hermione. That's the answer. He fancies you and he wants to go out with you." There, that should shock her into talking.

Hermione made a hilarious snorting sound. "He does not! I'm not his type. He goes out with fluffy-minded, groomed women who say yaah when they mean yes. There is no way his mother would approve of me!"

"Whether she would or not he's asked you out, in public, repeatedly and all you've offered is a few gropes in darkened corners of the Ministry. Then when something more did happen you were out of there faster than a rigged snitch."

"I didn't want to wait around for him to ask me to leave, which he would have. I'm not his type" said Hermione with a determined raised chin, daring Ron to disagree with her.

"My friend Hermione would say something like 'all evidence to the contrary' - we like her even though she says poncy things like that because she's usually right. My mum would say you were talking codswallop. Just think through what you've told me this morning and imagine it's not you and Malfoy. Tell yourself the story with other characters. Let's call them Noel and Doreen."

"Those are awful names! We're calling them...Stephen and... Diane."

Ron grinned to himself. She walked right into that ploy. She was definitely thinking about it now. After a few moments there was a gasp.

"See? Malfoy's not the one who's acting as if they are a few cauldron cakes short of a picnic Hermione. So what are you goin to do about it?"

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy's elegantly appointed parlour was easily three times smaller than any room she would have considered suitable for entertaining in the Manor but as with everything else she had used her straightened circumstances to her advantage. It was impossible, even for her son, to know if she ever missed the opulence of her old life. The select few of society's elite who had been invited to this particular parlour always left with the uneasy feeling that their grand ballrooms and expansive grounds were really rather gauche and a little childish. It was no accident that there was a sudden wizarding fashion for intimate card parties, held in small, tasteful rooms.

After a three-robe tussle with his elf Draco Malfoy flooed into the pretty parlour. Dinko had finally allowed him to leave with the top buttons of his robe undone and no argument about a cravat. It was clear the elf was most concerned for Master Draco.

This particular afternoon the parlour's studied informality was replaced by genuine ease: Aunt Andromeda was visiting. His mother was more agitated than she would ever appear in front of non-relatives. Before he had even finished greeting them she began the business of the tea with the exclamation: "Really Draco! I am disappointed."

Draco would have liked to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about but the copy of the Prophet casually left on the only remaining seat meant he couldn't.

"Mother I don't wish to discuss it" he said with what he hoped was sufficient authority. "Good afternoon Andromeda, where is Teddy today?" His aunt's reply was cut off by his mother.

"Don't wish to discuss it? That is a pity. Unfortunately for you there have been too many lunches in which I was forced to discuss Miss Granger, now it's your turn."

"Narcissa, let the boy have some tea, for goodness sake" Andromeda scolded gently, pouring out tea into two very fine cups which then levitated towards mother and son. "Teddy has abandoned us in favour of Shell Cottage. He's thoroughly smitten with Bill and Fleur's eldest, Victoire, he told me last night that he is going to marry her. Apparently he asked her yesterday and she said yes. Not bad for a seven year old."

Draco sipped his tea carefully and tried not to be annoyed that his young cousin's love life was so much more successful than his own. No, he was annoyed because Teddy wasn't here to distract his mother from the terrible conversational possibilities that lay ahead. Damn the little blue-haired bugger.

That was all the respite his mother gave them. "Can you explain this Draco?" she said brandishing the paper.

"Weasleys are very fashionable these days?" he said with an attempt at levity. It failed.

"Having heard nothing at all about her for several lunches I presumed everything between you was going well and now I see this. Are you at least the 'notorious former Dark Wizard'? Do you at least warrant a mention or have we been wasting our time thoroughly"

"To the best of my knowledge I'm the only former Death Eater she's been sleeping with lately but then I didn't know about Weasley so my knowledge doesn't count for much."

"You've slept with her? You've slept with her and this still happened?" Narcissa seemed completely stunned. She was actually silent for nearly a whole minute, when she continued it was almost to herself. "I thought Lucius had dealt with that part of your education. Well really do I have to do everything myself!" She looked at her son with a gentle expression, one he remembered from times when he had bad dreams as a child. "Draco dear, is it possible that you are bad in bed?"

"Narcissa!" Draco could hear his aunt exclaim but it seemed to be very far away. He was desperately hoping that his mother hadn't just said that, maybe he'd had a stroke and was hallucinating, wouldn't that be lovely? This could not be happening.

"You've seen them together Andromeda. They have enough sexual energy to feed a colony of Nargles and yet she's still back in Mr Weasley's arms. I never suspected she was loose or maybe he's a squib between the sheets!" The last part was delivered in a piercing whisper and woke Draco from his denial that this was reality.

"Mother! I was taught that a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. You may think what you like about my prowess but Granger certainly isn't loose! I refuse to sit here while you speak about her in that manner." Draco rose and moved towards the fireplace.

"So you've realised you are in love with her then?" his mother asked innocently as if they'd been having a perfectly reasonable discussion.

He was the picture of frustration, shoulders slumped and one hand tugging on his hairline. Why couldn't his parents have been bloody Hufflepuffs!

"Yes mother I have." There was no point in leaving now and rejecting whatever twisted advice she had to offer so he sat back down. At least her afternoon tea was always excellent.

"Well that, at least, is some improvement. However did you allow this to happen? I had assumed that when you finally understood the situation things would move forward smoothly. Miss Granger seems like the kind of young woman who would appreciate personal insight."

"I haven't told her. There was no need to add to the humiliation." Andromeda levitated him selection of cakes with a sympathetic look.

"I thought I explained that Gryffindors need things to be explicit Draco."

"They are also biased in favour of actions rather than words mother. I let my actions speak. They were very clear."

"Obviously not clear enough. If her parents were wizarding I could arrange everything with them myself but as it is you will have to take charge. I don't understand this shilly-shallying! If you like one another what on earth could be the problem? This behaviour is not very mature Draco. In my day -"

Here his mother was cut off by a huge guffaw coming from her sister. "Oh Narcissa Malfoy-Black if ever there was a hypocrite you are it! How can you say those things? Never, in the history of either family, has there been a more volatile courtship than yours and Lucius'! It took everything bar a team of strong thestrals to get you up the aisle, not that we could keep you out of each other's beds for more than a couple of nights at a time! It was quite the scandal."

Draco had never seen his mother so effectively silenced. He grinned. This reconciliation between the sisters certainly did have unexpected benefits. Andromeda continued to laugh while his mother looked daggers at her.

"They were notorious Draco, a function didn't go by without a spectacular argument that ended their betrothal. They were always back together within the week. It was quite cruel of them, poor Alexander Nott got his hopes up every time."

"The situation was completely different. Lucius could be very difficult."

"Oh yes, let's blame Lucius while he is in Muggle prison and conveniently unable to defend himself" said Andromeda. She turned her attention to Draco "That article is total nonsense. I know both Hermione and Ron well enough now to know that if they ever get back together everyone they love will disown them. I don't know what happened between you but Ron is not the cause of your estrangement I'd bet. I'd guess things were already bad between you before this happened, am I right? The Hermione I know would have to be fairly upset to need rescuing, which is what this sounds like reading between the lines, she usually saves herself and a few other people for good measure."

Draco's silence was enough of an answer for her. Hermione did usually save herself although sometimes she dragged him with her. She was the only person who'd ever saved him from anything that he didn't resent passionately afterward. It was because, once in a while, she let him get her out of some mess or other. He could rescue a thousand princesses from a hundred dragons and it could never make him feel as successful as when Hermione let him steady her when she tripped. He'd never really thought about it before this stupid thing had started but, if he had to make a list, the fact that Hermione Granger trusted him would be top of his life achievements. Damn. He didn't want to be reminded of her many bloody admirable qualities. Maybe having a sane aunt wasn't such a great idea after all.

When he looked up his mother and his aunt were both watching him closely and he guessed someone had asked a question he'd ignored. Woops. Time to go on the offensive.

"Yes, I'm in love with her. Yes, things were already strained before she threw herself at Weasley but it is not my fault. She bolted. She hasn't spoken to me about anything other than work in over a week. I'd say she'd made her feelings very clear: she doesn't want me. So what words of wisdom do you have now?" That should shut them up, just enough honesty to be painful.

"I'll eat my wand if it's Ron she wants" was Andromeda's comment.

"I think you are still being far too ambiguous. You must be explicit. You must ask for what you want Draco. Isn't a definite 'No' better than wondering? And besides even if you don't require the answer I most certainly do. I have never spent so many months on a scheme just to have it fizzle out. I do not intend to start now Draco."

She could issue all the stern maternal warnings she wanted, she had not raised a fool. It wasn't her career in jeopardy if the situation became worse. It wasn't her heart she was risking. He had just about managed to escape with some dignity and in future years would be able to pass the whole thing off with a philosophical shrug. Draco wouldn't be courting Hermione any further and that was final. As he brooded over his battenburg he didn't notice the conspiring glances passing between the two sisters.

* * *

Ron Weasley thought he'd done well, not just this morning but in life in general. He'd survived a war, befriended grief, found a job he loved, been in love twice and managed to keep two of the most high-maintenance friends in the whole world. Life was good and on top of all that he had season tickets to see the Cannons play. One day they would win three matches in a row again and he'd be there.

Even if you narrowed things down to just this morning he'd been bloody brilliant. He'd got Hermione to see the light when no-one else, not even Ginny or Malfoy, had been able to. He'd talked her into going after what she wanted, or at least admitting what she wanted (come on, he wasn't Malcolm the Miraculous). He'd even accidentally set off a long-standing friendship booby-trap and managed to emerge unscathed from the debris of romantic relationships past, he should get another Chocolate Frog card for that one. If there were a NEWT in friendship he'd have an O. Even Hermione agreed.

"You're my best friend but if you tell Harry I'll deny it" she said while hugging him.

"I'm showing him this moment in a pensieve as soon as the match is over."

She laughed and bit her lip. "It all still might go pear-shaped on me."

"Never know if you don't try will ya?" said Ron patting her head.

She straightened her spine and turned picking up a handful of Floo Powder. She was about to whisk herself away when he interrupted.

"Oi Hermione!"

"What is it Ron?" she turned back to him flustered

"Great arse" he said with a grin, disapparating before her jinx could hit him.

* * *

When Verity returned to the flat that evening she found a vase in the middle of the kitchen table spilling over with vibrant orange flowers. The parchment beside it read:

_To Verity,_

_You are the most wonderful Cannons supporter-supporter I've ever met._

_And in case I don't say it enough you are very, very beautiful._

_I love you,_

_Ron._

Verity smiled as she read it, thinking to herself for the hundredth time how lucky she was to have a boyfriend taught by the Great Hermione Granger.

* * *

A/N: I'm so sorry. I'm very very sorry. I know it's a disgraceful time between updates but Ron and Hermione _really_ didn't want to have that conversation. They were truculent and kept wandering off the point and trying to get back together. I had to be very firm with them. In personal news since I last updated I i) was diagnosed with an auto-immune disease (I'll be fine it's very treatable and explains a lot) ii) Got 75% of the way to buying a house after four years of looking iii) had the vendor pull out at the eleventh hour and bruise our hearts. It is just possible that Ron and Hermione were in a conspiracy to stop me posting a really depressing chapter. I made it extra long to make it up to you all.

Thanks so much to all who have reviewed, followed, favourited and read this story, as you can see it is a highpoint in my life at the moment. Thanks, I really mean it. _  
_


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